If You'll Stay
by writerworld123
Summary: Eli flies home in surprising Clare after her diagnosis of cancer. Despite if they're dancing around the subject, fate seems to find them quicker than they expected. M for sexual content, mild language, adult themes.
1. In my door

"I'm glad you're here Eli."

Eli can already tell everything was nothing like he left it since he left for NYU.

"Hi Mrs Edwar - Martin" Eli corrects meekly, and she strays aside to let him in. Everything of the Edwards' home appeared as he left it- the furnishing and that rose water fragrance.

It was all the same, despite the tension in the air seemed to be screaming.

Clare's diagnosis felt to be a shadow looming in the air, perhaps it was just Eli's flamboyant imagination, or perhaps it was because the silence had never sounded so loud.

"Clare's upstairs… still." Helen murmurs, gazing up the stairwell, to Eli and it's as though she's daring him to go fourth ward. "Still?" Eli echoes, and Helen sighs, tying her apron.

"She's been sleeping a lot these days I don't blame her… even if I know I should encouraging her to get out."

The mother's sunken eyes appeared to have a longer story in them, but, Eli was feeling just as wary from the tension climbing on his shoulders.

Despite if everything looked the same, Eli knew nothing ever would be from this point on. "Should I come back later?" Eli wonders aloud, looking up the stairwell, this lumping in his throat.

Helen shrugs nonchalantly "I highly doubt anything will have changed when you return." She confesses, and Eli's brows tighten.

He ventures up the stairs, feeling Helen's eyes among him the whole way.

Approaching Clare's bedroom, Eli gave a faint knock, seeming he didn't wish to wake her. In that same wish, he also couldn't bare waiting any longer to see her either.

"Mom, I told you, I'm not hungry." Her feminine voice was crinkled and muffled from what sounded to be in a pillow. "Not even for the Goldsworthy special?" Eli quips, but, his tone was flat on the punch line.

Quirking jokes felt too out-of-element with Clare as of this moment.

That's when it all boiled down : things really would never be the same.

The sound of a blanket being tussled, the faint patter of bare feet, and the door swings open. "Eli?" Clare breathes, and he smiles but he feels nothing of joy beneath it. Especially when looking upon a gray-skinned, stick-thin, and hair-thinned Clare before him.

Had her illness progressed so rapid to illustrate such a toll on her body? He gathered her in his arms anyhow.

"Since when… I don't understand" she croaked into his shoulder. Eli spared a moment to make himself at home in her scent, the fragrance of honey and the damply fresh air after rainfall.

"I had to see you, I hated the thought of me re-stocking camera film awhile you're here…going through all this."

The term 'cancer' was too heavy for how tender Eli still was to the concept. Frankly, it hadn't sunk in… or perhaps he was just burying in the depths of his mind. He was quite good at that. Even so, if you have to bury the thought… that means it's still planted in you.

Eli learned the brutal way that you cannot hide from that forever. With Clare standing before him, withering and limp, it seemed the thoughts found him. Clare had Rhabdomyosarcoma, and Eli was helpless to benefit it.

Being there for her was all he was the only benefit she could reap from him, alas he was standing here in her bedroom doorway.

Hence, he didn't understand why she looked troubled as of now.

"Aren't you happy I'm here?" Eli presses, _you did only beg of me to come home on the phone._

Clare, hugging herself to his chest, nodded. "Of course I'm happy, I just… feel terrible… for dragging you down here." She murmurs with remorse laced in her sleepy voice.

Eli cupped her drooped face in his hands, steering her chin up to face him. "You're not _dragging_ me anywhere I'm here because I _want_ to be." "How about you… come here a little further?" Clare hums, and he smirks, tilting his head to greet the lips he's been longing for. "Clare, Eli, would you like supper?"

And would apparently have to wait a bit longer for

Once a deathly quiet supper was over, Helen and Glen ventured off into the night afterward- at Clare's request. Helen was not oblivious, the knowing of what events were to follow in her absence were evident.

Eli was uncertain whether Helen was aware of him and Clare's prom night. He decided if she had a hunch, and was willing to savor them both of a gritty confrontation, he shouldn't question it.

Closing the front door behind them, Clare shuffles into Eli's waiting arms on the sofa. "Where were we?" Eli whispers, and Clare lifts her nose from his hair, seeming to indulge in his scent as well, before greeting his lips.

"Mmm" Eli drones in her kiss, before pecking along to her neck, his hands indolently feeling her warmth through her sweatshirt. "What to do now?" Clare wonders aloud, and Eli looses himself in her eyes, and Clare must peck his nose to find him again.

Eyeing his watch, he sighs "I have to go see Cece and Bull before it's too late."

Clare sits upright in his lap, "Eli, you came here before visiting your parents? That's terrible." Clare scolds, and he only answers in a smirk.

"I couldn't wait" He defends innocently, and Clare tilts her head with a disapproving glare in her eyes.

"Would you do the honor of coming with?" Eli wonders aloud, and Clare nods. "I'd be honored- I haven't seen Cece in so long." Eli grins and she rises from his lap, only to wobble down.

"Woah!" Eli gasps, running his hands soothingly among her back. "Maybe you should just stay here for the night.. rest." Eli insists quietly, and Clare looks upon him as though he just struck her in the face.

"No… no, I'm fine really." Her elfish hands cupped his neck, and her words were not that of persuasion but plea. Helen had remarked that Clare had not left the house for quite some time. Helen seemed to believe it was Clare's will, Eli knew her better than that.

He knew her body's weakling was not cooperating with the fiery ambition that rooted inside of her. Before Eli's grandmother passed, she was legally blind with an impaired ear, and wheeled everywhere she went.

Despite that, she was the life of every family gathering, and Eli distinctly recalled her lashing at anyone who attempted to help her with anything.

But, she was also eighty- that degradation was natural, inevitable, Clare was only seventeen with a life unlived before her. It was too devastating to think such a horrid fate could be bestowed upon her youth.

Eli clutched her close, as though to shield her from it… but… you can only hide from fate as feebly as you may avoid it. "Clare, I'm not going anywhere, I'll still be here in the morning." Eli coos, swaying her among his lap like a small child.

"I know…I just… don't want to say goodbye." Clare whispered, and Eli's heart swelled, hearing the unsaid in her words. Goodbye… as in her lives' farewell, and Eli clutched her even tighter.

"Okay, I'll hail a cab" Eli murmurs, kissing her forehead- which he noted to be quite feverish- he gathered his cell from his back pocket to call, Clare played with his guitar pick necklace as he hailed the cab.

"Should be here in about twenty minutes" Eli sighs, hanging up, and Clare presses her lips into his throat. Eli grunts, his phone slithers out of his hand, and he grips her shoulder, kissing her collarbone as she flutters her kisses along his throat.

When her hand ventured south, that's when he dismantled her from him. "Lets save this, I don't want Cece and Bull having something to poke at." Clare thins her lips out, and that cues the tension to scream.

"Should I change?" Clare asks, motioning to her indolent attire of a plum colored sweatshirt, black sweats, and gray boots. Eli's smirk only lasted so long in dwelling on how adorable she looked… till also how gaunt her body had become.

He didn't fancy the shedding of her weight, he adored the roundness of her face and the healthy rose complexion of her cheeks. Eli also distinctly recalled adoring how plush her curves were, bare, against his body when they made love.

"Nonsense, bed head fancies you" Eli compliments, plucking a loose curl from her shabby bun. Clare's waxy cheeks seem to ignite with a hint of pink… it seemed to signify hope.

* * *

On the ride, Clare's drifting asleep upon his shoulder, fighting it, and Eli shifts to cushion her head on his chest. Grant her permission, that was unnecessary, to sleep, without saying the actual words that would promise a fight.

The last thing Eli wished for at this point was trouble with Clare, seeming all their past troubles shrunk microscopic to her current…condition. "Eli?" She hums, and he strokes the back of her neck, shivering her in pleasure.

"Where is your luggage exactly?" Eli rustles the baby hairs over her eyes, "Waiting for me… and you… on my bed." Clare stirs against his chest to peek up at him. "But, I thought you said you didn't go home fir-"

"I said I didn't see Cece and Bull first, I went home, Cece and Bull just weren't in it." He ignites, and Clare blinks, "Don't suppose a forty pound suitcase won't give away your return."

Eli hoots, "The Goldsworthy tradition of never going into my room lives on to this day, I assure you."

Eli's parents are out front when they arrive. Bull's legs are out from beneath his truck, awhile Cece's leaning against the bed. She stops when the cab parks into the driveway, and Eli climbs out first to escort Clare after by the hand.

Cece has him gathered in her arms before he can even greet her. Eli encloses his mother with one arm, awhile his spare hand is still laced in Clare's.

"Oh, Clare!" Cece sings, though her smile falters for a moment upon Clare's grave appearance. Eli wasn't all too concerned with Cece maintaining composure though. She was after all the mother of a bi-polar hoarder.

"Oh Bull, your truck baby can wait, come greet the baby with your eyes!" Cece scolds, nudging one of his legs from beneath his truck. Bull makes a grunting noise, appropriately similar to a frog's croak, before sliding out with black oil streaked among his shirt and hands.

"Hey-oh, Eli!" Bull sings, groaning as Cece helps him to his feet. He hugs both Eli and Clare in one massive bear hug, before Cece ushers them all inside for dessert. Eli's hand is laced in Clare's the whole way.

Dessert with the Goldsworthy's was nowhere near as painful as the supper in the Edward's home. Eli did not expect anything of the less anyhow though.

He thanked himself for allowing Clare to accompany him- he couldn't imagine such thick silence and isolation could be good for her, or her condition. Despite if the pastry's she was plucking apart didn't seem to fancy her either.

Cece danced around the subject over coffee and éclairs (1), Eli detected the curious questions festering inside of her, and Eli gave her a long hug afterward, in gratitude for her restraint.

Guiding Clare to his room by her hand, Eli opened the door before him, gesturing for her to enter. Clare makes herself comfortable among his bed, awhile Eli began the wary task of unpacking.

"You sure you want to unload all that only to pack it back up?" Clare wonders, and Eli shrugs, retrieving the first item-a framed photo of him and Clare on prom. Everything looked so… perfect.

"Nah, I don't want to live out of a suit case in my own house." Eli explains, propping the frame on his old desk.

Clare smiles, watching him adjust the frame by a mere inch, perfecting it to an angle that suited him.

"How long did that angle evaluation take in the dorm?" Clare murmurs, and Eli smiles , eyes prone on adjusting the frame still.

"Long enough till I could see you fully facing me in my bed" Eli answered sincerely, and Clare's insides are suddenly warm. "Can I hel-" "Nope" Eli cuts, and Clare sinks beneath his bed covers, arms folded. Before she can offer her unwanted help again, the bedroom door creaks open.

"I just wanted to say goodnight" Cece whispers, though her enthusiasm appeared irrelevant to sleep. "Goodnight mom" Eli whispers, hugging her briefly before she tip-toes over to embrace Clare.

"Having fun "unpacking." Cece sings, twiddling her fingers before shutting the door behind her. Eli sighs through his nose, and Clare pats the empty side of her.

"If you won't let me help, at least get some sleep and finish in the morning." Clare insists, and Eli agrees in tugging his sweatshirt over his head, toppling on the bed aside of her.

"Shouldn't you get home before midnight, when Glen and Helen return?" Eli concerns, and Clare shrugs indifferently.

"Ever since… everything… Helen hasn't been very strict about pumpkin hours… she also doesn't want to pass up the opportunity to get me out of the house." Clare informs, and Eli is alleviated by the shy mutuality of speaking about her condition.

Despite if they would have to confront it eventually, he was thankful she wasn't pressing to do it before they actually had to.

"You think she knows about us… you know?" Eli drones, and Clare's nails caress his knuckles. "She hasn't said anything about it, I figure may as well not poke at it." Eli loved when their thoughts coincided.

As Clare kicked her snow boots off, Eli turned off his desk lamp, and accompanied Clare beneath the covers, drawing her against him.

"Goodnight Miss Edwards" Eli whispered, pecking her lips, but, Clare did not seemed gratified to leave it there.

"Clare?" Eli wonders aloud, but, his voice seems to float in the dark. Clare kneads her fingers into his hair, claiming his mouth in her kiss.

Eli parts his lips to venture his tongue into the cavern of warm mouth. Eli's attempting to be subtle, seeming it was midnight, and rest should be her objective as of this hour.

Clare's small hands wondered into his sweats, her fingertips begin to fondle at the sudden growth beneath his slacks.

Eli sighs into her ear, before tugging at the hem of her sweatshirt, wanting to feel her breasts against him- _all_ of her against him, the same as it was their first night, months ago.

After all, at least one thing had to stay the same, right?

* * *

(1): Pastry Pun


	2. The red poppy

_Warning: Raw depiction of vomit and blood shed. Not for the weakened intestines. I will not half-ass the gore of reality. _

* * *

By morning, the one thing that Eli thought to stay the same did the same thing as everything else that was once the same…

Clare didn't greet Eli as he awoke, nor were her eyes' paying much mind to him either. However, the night hadn't been anything but incredible, their bodies gracefully tangled, perfected in unison for the second time… and then a third.

But, when the sunlight greeted them, Clare shrugged his arm from her bare chest without a word. They didn't converse and laugh as they got dressed like they had the morning after prom.

Coming down the stairs, not holding hands, Bull's arriving through the front door from a graveyard shift at the radio station. He offers his car to savor Eli from having to hail another cab, and Eli figured this would be a once-in-a-lifetime exception… and he loathed in knowing why.

Even a sleepless Bull could foretell the tragedy that was Clare… the love of his life.

Who was gravely pale- and not her delicate ivory, but, a lusterless off-white. Even the blue hue of her eyes seemed to be washed out.

Eli's grateful his mother, who would lag the tension with innocently offering her signature French toast, was asleep.

As soon they arrived outside's Clare's home, she's quick to hitch her door open, but, Eli is quicker in striking all the door locks- stalling her escape from him.

"What's going on Clare?" Eli presses but, Clare would not touch eyes with him. Her gaze was intent out her passenger window.

"You see that butterfly right there… the bright green one?" Eli blinks, tilting his head over to follow her pointed finger.

"You know… I read somewhere that for all those months of being a cocoon, they only live for a day."

"Come on Clare, won't you talk to me?" Eli's sighs, and she lowers her hand. "Nothing" Clare whispers, and Eli doesn't press it any further… despite if he knows he should. That nothing was something he was not ready to confront.

"Oh no" Clare breathes, and it stifles Eli in panic. "What is it?"

Clare turns from the window, her red fingertips clipping her nose.

"Oh shit" Eli gasps, stretching over to the glove department in a frantic. "No need" Clare gestures to the hanky he loaned her months prior, balled up inside in her sweatshirt pocket.

Mopping the blood from her nose, she unfastens her seat belt. Red poppies bloom on the leather interior of Bull's car seat. Hurrying over to open the passenger door, Eli gathers her up in his arms, not minding the smear of red on his fingertips and carries her perfectly mobile self into the house.

"Leave it to me to ruin everything before the sun's even fully up." "Clare, stop that, kicking yourself isn't good for you" Eli scolds, again, Clare stares up at the ceiling, sighing, awhile Eli stocks another wad of tissue up her nostril.

Eli had her propped up on the sink before him, and Clare was being the task of a patient in being still awhile he doctored her nose. A clot slithers into her throat, her air pipe catches it, and she gags.

Its enough to protrude the cotton from her nose, and she heaves at the copper taste leaking into her mouth.

Eli gathers her hair back, and the leaking red glistens in the sink, alien dark, and evidently not designed to leave the body. It's accompanied by regurgitated bits of pastry too.

"Do I need to call your mom from work?" Eli questions, Clare quivers her head, bowed over in the sink. "No…. no it's just the taste of blood, I haven't gotten quite used to it yet."

Yet…

Eli grimaced in her having to adjust in tasting her own bodily fluid. "What can I do?" Eli caresses her backside in light circles, but, the tickle sensation only seems to nauseate her.

Clare runs the faucet over what could pass as a crime scene in the sink. "Nothing… I just need to brush this taste out of my mouth."

Clare didn't allow him to stay long after that. He awaited her on the sofa downstairs, only for her to come down- hanky to her nose- insisting he leave or he would be late for spending the day Cece had planned over dessert last night.

It was quite obvious she was attempting to rid him of the trouble- which wasn't really trouble - of mending to her. Awhile Eli didn't want for her to push him away, further than he had been for the past six months, he couldn't snub her wishes.

"At least let me stay here until Allie arrives" Eli insists, though it's pleading, and Clare attempts to swallow the trickle of warmth in her throat.

"You promised you wouldn't let me hold you back from anything."

"But Clar-"

"Anything!" She echoes, and Eli rises from the sofa, tugging her against him by the wrist.

"Missing on what… poached eggs and puns?" Eli hoots, and Clare sniffles into the hanky.

"On spending quality time with your mother, who would much appreciate it."

He still couldn't snub her wishes, as desperately as _he_ wished to.

Clare walks him to the front door, and due to the hanky, he only kisses her forehead.

After Eli leaves, reluctantly, Clare peeks through the drapes and watches the car shrink over the hill.

Clare retreats into the bathroom, plummets onto the toilet, and cries.

* * *

Eli's day consisted of brunch, Cece's meddling, and Bullfrog's occasional grunts in between. Perhaps some things did remained unscathed by life's inevitable changes. Even so, a morning consisted of cheek-pinches and Canadian beacon were no match for the thoughts consisted of Clare.

She had texted him in confirming Allie's arrival, but, made the conversation brief in nudging him to consume his time with his parents.

As if he hadn't consumed a whole eighteen years of his life with them, and they weren't bleeding half of their bodily fluid out at the moment.

* * *

The moment they arrived home, Eli's first priority was to call Clare. She answers on the last ring.

"Eli, can I call you back?" Is how she greets him, her voice seems to lag, as though it were echoing.

"Where are you?" Eli presses, voice lilting in panic, and Clare sighs heavily into the phone. "Eli, I _really_ need to call you back later." She hangs up before he can object.

Tossing his phone onto the bed, he concludes to ditch the shower, not wanting to spare another moment to see her.

He paces his room, before deciding to the very least change his shirt.

Ten calls, ten voicemails, and twenty texts later Eli is still awaiting Clares' arrival from the front steps of her home. She was bound to scold him for this, but, at least he'd be able to see her awhile she scolded him.

Eli gusts his breath on his hands, which were chapped, from the bite of Canadian winds. He molded himself inside his denim jacket, his jaw vibrating from chill.

__He was not going anywhere.

* * *

Alas, around midnight, the most lovely name appeared on his caller ID.

"Eli" She murmurs, and he sprung up onto his feet, warming on cue to her voice. "Are you okay?" It's all he must know at this point.

"I will be, but, I won't be home until tomorrow." It swells his chest, but, he must pry now.

"What happened?"

Clare exhales, warily like a thousand years of bottled exasperation is sighing out of her. "The nosebleed wouldn't stop, so, they had to cauterize my nose."

Eli nods, as if she can see, and winces.

"And?" he presses, and Clare adjusts her throat, or perhaps gags, the noise is an odd breed in between. "They had to check my platelets and give me a transfusion, I was twenty units below."

Eli finally has to say it, "Uh… w-what does this mean?"

Clare exhales another thousand years again.

Eli was certain what she was about to inform him of was not what he wanted to hear, and exactly what he ached to know. It was apparent Clare's condition was a whole another world spoken in a whole different language.

And Eli wanted to master all of it.


	3. What's that ticking?

The sun hasn't rose yet, but, Clare insisted she be released from the hospital- at her mother's dismay. Helen rambles on her schedule for the next month awhile Clare focus is out the window, hunting for green butterflies. She spies two, and silently wishes them good day, which they obliviously didn't know was there last.

The drive seems to lag forever and yet no time at all before arriving home. Clare also arrived to a sleeping Eli on her front steps.

"Eli?" Clare questions, unfastening her seat belt, and hobbles out. She approaches Eli's sporting a flower pot for a pillow. He stirs against the pavement, starring up at her as though it bestowed pain upon him. She would not be stunned if her appearance alarmed such a reaction.

Clare was sleep deprived, with blood seeping around her lids in grimy rings. She was also in dire need to bathe, stilling wearing the plum sweatshirt- which now sported blood stains- and sweats from the first day he arrived.

"Oh… Clare, god, you're okay!" He was not a word dry of energy, for someone who just marinated in an inhuman position on concrete for a solid five hours.

"Yes, however, I'm not the one who's been slumbering against a flower pot." Clare mutters, offering a hand to reel him onto his feet. "I thought you said you were going home before we hung up last night." The blue seems to stale over in her eyes at this.

Eli gripped the nape of his neck, which was tweaked, and grimaced. "I…I know, I guess I lost track of time." Eli defends, and his eyes are strained in a red tint. Helen is ghosting past the two, letting herself into the house without a greeting.

Eli leans in to hug her, but, Clare strays away. "Clare?"

She sighs, circulating her temples with her fingertips. "Eli, you can't keep doing this." Eli's tongue swells inside his mouth, there's something emerging in his chest- and it's quite horrified.

_No... No... not yet... not now! _

"D-doing what?" His voice lilts, and Clare folds her arms, centering her eyes among her shoes. "Eli, I know me having cancer has been difficult to accept, it's been hard for me- everyone, but, I don't want to trigger anything." Eli's brows knit, he strays a step back himself now.

"_Trigger_?" He echoes, solemnly, as though he were attempting to speak a foreign word for the first time. Clare nods, "I don't want to upset your progress with your meds, and provoking erratic behavior, worrying your pare-"

"Where are you getting this from, I haven't showed any erratic beha-"

"Sleeping on my front steps for a whole night?"

Eli's hand balls up, his nails ingrain crecent moon prints into his palm.

"That's not erratic Clare, that's me being worried sick, which is completely relevant to the bloody nightmare you were having yesterday."

Clare scoffs, and the skin of Eli's palm is objecting to his nails further biting into his hand. "It's no nightmare Eli: this is real!" Clare screeches, and her hands aim at his chest in a shove, it descends him- with one of Helen's flower pots- onto the pavement.

Clare's in stunned, every fiber in her screams in regret. "Eli..I didn't mean to!" Clare's apology is nothing but of a whimper. She gets onto her knees before him, and he steers out of her touch when she attempts to brush the soil from his knee.

Eli gathers himself onto his feet, but, Clare remains below him. "You're not getting rid of me that easy, if you think using my own disease to scare me away, you're wrong!" There's not a beat missed in that claim.

He extends a hand, Clare ignores it, and goes straight for his lips.

* * *

After Helen disembarks for work, Eli fixed a pot of tea for Clare, awhile obligating her to recite the process of platelet transfusion they discussed the night before. Clare kept it vague, just as she had the night before too.

Even with dissecting each answer with another question, she still managed to keep her answers luke warm. Eventually, Clare only spoke of how well he prepared the tea, and it sounded a bell to Eli that the trivia was over.

They fell asleep on the sofa afterward, tangled in each other's arms. Eli couldn't fathom when he ever felt this complete.

* * *

Eli awoke before Clare, and learns that dismantling an entire being- without awaking them- is a lengthier process than one could peg. Too bad the noise of him scooting the coffee table awakens her anyhow. He apologizes on cue, and Clare only shushes him, collaring his neck with her small hands to draw his lips onto hers.

"Let's have lunch" Eli insists, and Clare plummets onto the couch, smothering face into a pillow.

"You should take advantage of any appetite you have." Clare scoffs, "Thanks Dr. Who." Eli smirks, but, it's too fixated to feel light on his face.

"Dr. Who has nothing on it- your mom told me." Clare grinds the pillow down her face, peeking at him over the top. "You spoke to my mom?" Clare mutters, and Eli twiddles his fingers together.

"Uh, yeah, before I left New York… after you called, I called her." "

I didn't know you two bonded like that."

It's Eli's cue to scoff now.

"Trust me, small talk of white blood cells is far off from in-law bonding." E Clare sighs, but, it's not quite a thousand years now… maybe a hundred.

"If we go out, I need a shower... and change" Clare informs, motioning to her curls in a spidery knot.

Eli plucks wisps of hair from her face, "I need to shower too." Eli agrees.

Clare gets up to venture upstairs to the bathroom, and without verbally consenting it, Eli follows her.

* * *

They walk to the Dot together, hand in hand. Eli didn't fancy her walking the entire two blocks, but, Clare didn't fancy him drawing a box around her and stamping it _fragile._

Even if that's what she really was.

He proposed to carry her twice, and the notion was too ridiculous to _hear_, let alone consent on Clare's behalf. Eli would've been content in lingering beneath the shower head for the rest of the day.

Despite if Clare's body announced the truth of the one thing they were both dancing around still. What plague had feasted upon her health. The red dotting's and tender welts where needles had invaded the porcelain of her flesh. That same porcelain flesh seeming to thin against her bones, in which were tangible beneath his touch.

Despite if all the horrific details unveiled and sharpened in the broad sunlight through the bathroom windowpane. Despite it all, she was unraveled, vulnerable, and all his. His to bathe with his bare hands, and run his lips along her skin as steam licked it damp, and water pebbled it with faint droplets to taste beneath his tongue.

She exchanged her sweat attire for another pair of sweats, and a shamrock green sweatshirt that was evidently designed to slim and certainly unnecessary for her frame.

Eli recycled in wearing his jeans, awhile Clare scoped out a Dead Hand t-shirt he abandoned on her bedroom floor god knows how long ago.

"What do you think you want?" Eli wonders aloud; they managed to occupy a table where the sun greeted them from the east.

"It all looks disgusting" Clare mumbles in glum truth, and said through a sigh that seemed to age to a thousand years again.

"When was the last time you ate something?" Eli's attempting to monitor himself from scolding. Her bony frame was itching him to pry her lovely lips apart and spoon feed her himself.

"Um…" Clare blinks at him now, and Eli thins his lips out. "I don't want to force you to eat." Eli needed her to know this first thing.

"But…"

"You're trying to force me to eat anyway?" Clare finishes, quite airily, and Eli mouth gapes open for a moment. "You're not the first one to turn this card" Clare informs, folding her menu in defeat. "You're not the first to attempt spoon feeding me."

He loved it when their thought's coincided.

"I had that cup of tea" Clare suggests, although it seemed her list ended there, and she meekly looked out the window in avoiding Eli's disesteemed glare.

"How about we split something, and you can pick off whatever you like, leave the rest for my gluttony hole." Eli smirks, and Clare wears a small smile, relieved by the tension he just deflated.

Peter arrives at their table, with a smile that's designed for all his customers. But even Clare's tragic appearance seems to be enough to waver it from his lips for a moment. He adjusts his throat before speaking, "What will be?"

* * *

Awhile they wait on a veggie platter, which Eli attested Peter to have it _all_ be deeply steamed. Clare held Eli with daggers in her eyes, frowning.

"What?" Eli's fingers began to twiddle in their little dance again- just as they were about the obvious elephant floating about in the room.

"Eli, you _hate_ every vegetable- except corn." Eli shrugs indifferently, and Clare stretches her hand - which is icy- to cease his finger's tango.

"This is what I'm talking about Eli, letting me dictate all your fun." Eli gathers both of her hands in his, and began to grope them to stimulate warm friction.

"It's just a vegetable dish Clare" Eli soothes, touching eyes with her, despite if they held him in a frown still.

"No, Eli, if you're willing to let me dictate something like _just a vegetable dish_, you're going to let me dictate other things too... important things... ones I have_ no_ right to decree in." Eli is rubbing her hands in his furiously quick now, but, Clare doesn't seem to even flinch.

Her pain tolerance excelled past rug burn at this point.

Eli releases her hands, and kisses her knuckles nimbly, grimacing at her skin pinking from his fiery rubbing .

"Come on Clare, let's just eat and talk... and be together, like we're supposed to be." Eli had intended to be encouraging, but, it protruded as threatening in his ears.

Peter's emerges from the kitchen now, hosting a dish mounted with all the veggie tale characters, steam curling up from them.

"Are you still cold?" Eli presses, though he's already shrugging his denim coat off to offer.

Clare just shake's her head, gathering her hands off the table to make room for the _damn_ vegetable dish.

* * *

Apparently if walking two blocks to the Dot were expendable, walking the two blocks _back_ were intolerable. Clare would not consent he hail a cab for a ten minute walk, so, she caved in letting him carry her... frowning the whole way.

Clare was in grave sleep before Eli even reached the front door. He had were cradled in her arms like an infant, and it lulled her asleep like one too. Clare sometimes envied infants, or, the fetuses she saw swelling in women's middles.

She wished she were them, small and healthy, freshly plucked from the bed of a womb. Clare longed to be them, at the very least as oblivious as their underdeveloped minds were.

In her slumber, Eli was beside her, though he couldn't rest. Despite if he had no desire to be anywhere else but with her at the moment. His phone vibrated with life inside his pocket.

_I heard a mister Fish Pits flew in2 the Toronto nest. Rn't u gonna fly over 2 c ur best bud? ;) - Adam _

Eli missed Adam, but, there was no mistake he had missed Clare a dozenth times more. This was a sincerely ugly truth.

_Ur ears have no deceived u; when shall we meet? - Eli_

Eli altered his phone to silent, and Clare shifted, her hands clinging to his t-shirt with her fists.

_Saaay comic book store & hot wings at the Dot? Like good ole' times? - Adam _ Eli could not muffle his whining intestines; Clare had been on point with his distaste for vegetables.

Though Clare had delved into the platter, and Eli's dismay to hunger was clouded over by his delight to seeing her consume solid food.

_I'm down - Eli ;)_

Eli kisses Clare's forehead, and her nose twitches to signal it felt nice, so, he does it again. Indolently stroking her hair, Clare flinches in her sleep, and he wonders if she's having an unpleasant time in her dream. Straying his hand back, a wad of Clare's hair sweeps off with it.

Eli's eyes spread in horror, raising the wisps of strawberry blonde up to eye-level. His phone lights up, and he untangles the red strands from his fingertips, and lets them float onto the carpet.

The gritty texture of her hair, riddles his stomach in a cold sickness, and hatches goosebumps on his skin. Eli blends the rest of her hair over the thinning patch among her scalp- after he plants a faint kiss of apology upon it.

_Booya! 7 o clock 2night- dont b late handsome ;)))- Adam _

"Was that Adam?" Eli gazes down to Clare, hopeful around her sleepy eyes. Eli nods, wiping her bangs off her eyes. "Yeah, it was... how did you..."

Clare tucks her lip in, and Eli's glaring down upon her now. "How?" He echoes, and Clare sinks beneath her blanket.

"I may have called Adam... insisting you two go out." She confesses in a tiny voice, and Eli grunts in dismay, plucking the blanket from hands.

"Clare, I don't need you scheduling play dates for me." Eli complains, though it's quite stern, and Clare fiddles with the little beads lining the blanket.

"I just wanted you to spend time with Adam, with-"

"Other people besides you" Eli ignites, and Clare touches eyes with him now, and it tames the fury brewing inside Eli's chest.

"Why do you want to push me away?" Eli pleads, and Clare's brows furrow up as though she's on the verge of tears. Eli wouldn't be able to bare that, so, he buries himself into her chest.

Clare strokes his cheek with her palm, awhile her fingers rustle his bangs. Her heart is alive with a beat, but, it was tormenting to think these beats may be numbered.

"Eli, I'm only tryi-"

"I'm home Clare" Helen bursts through the front door, arms engulfed with groceries. "Hello Eli" she greets, closing the front door behind her with her foot.

Eli bolts over to assist Helen with the bags/

* * *

As the sun began to set, Clare was ushering Eli out the door. This time, he was rallied up for it, and wasn't going to oblige in her ridding herself of him so hastily. "I still have an hour before meeting Adam, let me stay with you a bit longer." Eli whispered, although he was already brushing past her to accompany Helen in preparation for dinner.

Ever since Clare's diagnosis, frozen dinner meals and pizza night went extinct under Helen's roof. Everything was steamed, boiled, and organic. All meals concocted of fungi and rabbit foods. All hand selected from the wooden crates inside _Apple Bee's Organic_ health food store.

Glen often ate before coming home, or, insist he and Helen go out awhile Clare marinated on the couch, stabbing her cauliflower like it proposed danger on her plate- which was now always paper. Helen read lingering bacteria can fester on china. It wasn't as though paper plates savored her from dishes, any task that required even a finger lift of effort was vetoed for Clare as well.

Her appetite wasn't a tragedy; it wasn't as though Clare missed such delicacy's of sugar and grease. All teenage probed foods were revolting to her now.

Clare had forgotten what an empty stomach gratified by a heavy meal felt like.

Though she knew if she could, she'd miss it terribly.

"What were you two up to today?" Helen wondered out loud, scraping a row of sliced tomatoes into a pot of broth. Clare could translate what her mother's words were really asking: _Did you do anything that might kill my daughter like, walking, skipping, climbing the stairs or anything fun?__  
_

When Eli began to speak of their lunch date, Clare motioned a finger across her neck. If Eli hadn't wigged out over the two blocks- Helen whole-heartily would.

"You... went out?" Helen pressed. Now it was too late, and Clare grit her teeth. Eli only stood with a composed smile. "Yes, we did, I hailed a cab for two blocks- not wanting to upset her condition or anything." Eli lied to such a gifted extent it was frightening. Helen seem to deflate a gust of air out of her to this.

"Yeah, Eli even relished in my new herbivore diet...you two could bond over that." Clare quipped, though it lacked snark, and only sounded bitter.

Helen nodded in approval, drowning an onion in the sink, and slicing it beneath to prevent false tears. Although Clare swore she didn't do it sometimes, just to have an excuse to shed the tears Clare snapped at her for ever shedding due to her tragic case.

"Wait a minute, you're telling me you got Clare to eat?" Helen ceased her cutting to peer up at Eli in bewilderment. Eli beamed with pride, "Right down to the steamed asparagus."

He was evidently getting a kick out of receiving a gold star from Helen, and it rolled Clare's eyes. "Eli, I think you should go spend time with _your_ mom, before seeing Adam."

"Oh Clare, don't rush the poor kid out" Helen shushes, and Eli tends to mimicking Helen's teachings of how to properly peel a potato.

"Do you think you still have an appetite for my garden stew?" Helen asks, running the faucet over a head of lettuce. Clare heaves, "It's not so much appetite, it's more of keeping things down."

Eli grimaced, dicing the top off a potato by mistake. _Another body fluid someone should never have to taste_ Eli thought in dismay. "Well, maybe it's a good idea to try eating something to begin with, you need strength."

Helen critiques, and Eli swallows thickly. "She may just need a muzzle too, for that bite." Eli smirks, and Helen hoots, nudging his side in amused approval.

"Yeah, well, starvation will at least kill me off quicker than cancer." Things fells silent to that, it was though the wire of a cord was tugged and unplugged.

Clare felt the same awkward nerves come over her as when she was a child, and bluntly said something she shouldn't have.

"That's an ugly thing to say Clare" Helen murmurs, shutting the tap water off, holding the soggy lettuce head in her hands. Clare shrugs indifferently, a sudden irritation fueling her to dig at the wound she just pierced.

"It's the ugly truth mom"

"Clare" Eli whispers, but, Clare hisses at him to shut up. Helen smooths her hair, "Clare, I know your sickness makes you irritable, but, you mustn't get yourself so worked up, it isn't good for yo-"

"_Nothing_ is good for me, what the hell am I supposed to do with myself? May as well kill me off now!"

"Clare!" Eli bellows, and the knife he's using to skin the potatoes clatters onto the floor with pitiful loudness.

"I think I should be getting home" Eli mutters, gathering his coat off the kitchen table. Helen's mother nods to the door, ordering Clare to follow.

She find's Eli seated among the front door steps, hands folded. Clare kneels beside of him, and rests her head upon his shoulder, their knees touch.

"I'm sorry, that was a rash thing to say"

Eli accepted this as an apology, and kisses her hair. "Are you still going to go out with Adam?" Clare asks, and Eli sighs through his nostrils.

"Yeah, I already agreed...but... I'm doing this mostly for you." "I know" Clare sighs, and he rings an arm around her, molding her against his side.

"I wanted you to do for you though, not for me." Clare whispers, and Eli's throat is objecting him from swallowing properly. He draws her among his lap, and runs his fingertips along her sides, down her legs, and around her bare ankles.

"I have chemo tomorrow" Clare announces, and she feels his body stifle beneath her. "Can I come?" Eli slurs, wishing he had given himself a moment of hesitation before asking.

Clare shrugs, pauses midway, and just nods softly. "You enjoy the night with Adam though... don't worry about me."

Eli scoffs, "All I do is worry about you Clare."

* * *

A few kisses later, Eli walks home, hands groveled in his pockets and scouting around for green butterflies the whole way.

The garden stew has reeked the house in an unholy stench of earth. The smell alone could rob a person of their appetite. "Is everything okay honey?" Helen greets her, and Clare lets the door swing closed on its own behind her.

_My body's just attacking itself, slowly eating me away, awhile my boyfriend- notably pretending to be oblivious- is suffering. Awhile him, nor I, or anyone else being able to do one damn thing about it._

"Yeah mom... everything's okay."


	4. Calm before the battle

**This chapter is written in first-person to have a further insight on Clare's perspective. Eli's pov. will proceed to be in third-person.**

* * *

"Organic fruit strip- yay!" I sing dryly, and Helen plummets down aside me in the Toronto Hospital waiting room. It's funny seeing everyone in the waiting room, because everyone's waiting on the same reason: to rest our lives in someone no more powerful than we are.

There's a heavy women, probably here on diabetes, reading through a _Readers Digest._ There's a teen mum, who seems to be stealing a few moments of shut eye awhile everyone else listens to her toddler make fire truck noises. As if we all are supposed to know what she lives through day and night, like we bestowed her drunken mistake on her.

Waiting builds anticipation, anticipation orchestrates the nerves. Nerves I am riding on a high as of now, seeming this was to be my first chemo session, and commencing of a torturous process that may not even keep me alive in the end anyway. Eli also hasn't arrived yet, and somehow this thought distresses me more.

I don't wish to pester him. I also am too worked up to really care. "Don't be a pill Clare- you take enough of those." Helen remarks, and it was quite true, all in gratitude to her. Since my diagnosis, I awake to a breakfast of Silica, a pill to strengthen bones, Vitamin E to recover post-irradiation, Potassium to strengthen immune system, Aloe Vera vitamin for body healing, Iron to fuel circulation, and a massive fish oil vitamin to benefit cardiovascular production.

Helen even arranges them in a smiley face, I always picks away at the smile first.

Helen also places them among one of their fine china plates… I suppose to make it seem less therapeutic. There's no evidence any of these pills really benefit anything, but, I figure it's Helen's way of feeling useful in keeping me alive. Cancer has to be one of the most helpless situations, but, everyone around me seems to want to see if they can help it anyway.

My indecisive stomach decides it's hungry for this current point five seconds now. I peel away the top , and devour the fruit strip before the wrappers even fully off.

* * *

In my room, we're presented with a whole another hour and a half of waiting, but, they're fire-truck noise free at least. My nurse- ironically named Clare, but, spelled with 'I'- checks my blood pressure ever so often.

Seeming anxiety is conventionally present prior to the patients first session. My heart goes heavy within my ears, everyone's voices seem distant, as though they're bounded beneath water. The only thread of relief I may dangle by is knowing such a pungent feeling can only numb you in due time. I'm still waiting.

Eli still hasn't arrived, nor as the doctor, I've been bundled against this chair, greeting the fluorescent light from above. Greeting the window framing the parking lot stretched beyond this thirtieth floor. I was hoping there would be a tree curled outside of it, rustling it's leaves as though it's waving at me. A green butterfly fluttering it's glorious first and last day wings at me.

I see a gaunt tree shriveled over in the parking lot, but, I don't fancy looking at dead things. Helen is planted in a chair before me, intent on the paper-back bible she bought from the hospital chapel downstairs. She furrows her brow, as though what's she's reading is absolute nonsense. I wonder if she ever considered it was… like I have, or, recently do.

Behind her shoulder is a massive painting among the off-white wall. It's not quite interesting, not at first glance to the naked eye. It's a dull blue canvas, with three tall lavenders sprouted up from dark soil… the artist must'v doted on shading the tones of purple precisely among the petals.

It doesn't appear like much on a canvas in a hospital room, but, I fathom three stunning purple flowers before that artist were extraordinary in person. And they just had to document it, not to suite others, just for them to relish in that bond with the flowers.

Lavender has a chemical to induce Endorphins… and some other release to ease headaches and Melatonin to make you sleepy. Another thing that releases these chemicals, is sex.

I never gave much thought to snippet details. The volume of purple shadings, the withering tree in a parking lot, that one button Helen always re-sews onto her coat of ten years instead of buying another one. The small patch of hair just below Eli's navel, and the three-sixty turn beneath the shower head to rinse his hair.

Moments, the microscopic details concocting those moments, gathering, building, and quietly weaving every aspect of my life I only took the bird-eye's view to look upon.

"Are you alright Clare?" Helen's eyes are musty brown, dark and glistening, I feel as though I'm looking into Darcy's eyes… or mud.

"Do you have a piece of paper…or… napkin and a pen?"

She digs into her bottomless tote bag, gathering a deck of post-its with Angels bordering it, and a _Martin's Company_ pen.

_Things_

_Shades of purple_

_Loose button _

_Dead tree_

_Navel hair_

_Mud eyes _

I fall asleep, pen in hand, and when I awake it feels as though I never slept. The only difference is that Eli is behind Helen's shoulder now, starring into the painting on the wall… I wonder if he's noting the precise shading's as well.

I wonder if he's spied out the window too, and didn't fancy the deceased tree either. I wonder if he looked at the tree, then looked at me.

"You're awake" Helen smiles, and the theme of the room seems to be my awakening from an operation and all is swell and done without a bat of my lash.

Of course my watch reads I've only been asleep for a half hour, and I still have an entire session of chemo to succumb myself to. I wish cancer wasn't so indecisive, I wish it'd make up it's mind with whether or not it wishes to kill me. The lagging process is just the muse of it I suppose though.

It broadcasts the Jeopardy theme song in my head.

Eli ghosts from the window to my side- he finally changed his jeans. His boot-cuts are accompanied with a gray sweatshirt, with the sleeves bunched at his elbows- exposing the veins visible, running from his fingertips to the crease of his arm.

The v-neck he wears beneath compliments his collarbone, awhile flattering the white contrast of the fabric to his skin, which evidently has been sun-kissed. The dark strands of his hair is swept to the left, two of the front layers tucked behind his ears- one ear still sporting the helix piercing.

When he kneels before me, I hear his guitar pick necklace jingle against his skin. He has masculine hands, which I believe are to show his wisdom beyond his years.

His jaw and upper lip are closely shaved, and I taste the Aqua Fresh toothpaste in the gust of his breath when he kisses me. He holds me, hands slithering behind me to slip beneath my hospital dress and feel my skin, with his icy fingertips.

He has one of those unspecified scents, something of cinnamon or an unsweetened brew of tea, perhaps the smell of Christmas morning… the smell of Eli. There's a pinch of his Ocean Surf deodorant in the midst of that smell too. I make myself comfortable in it, until there's a tapping at the door, and the doctor appears, with a perk to his portly frame and Buddy Holly glasses.

His name is Dr. Roman, and he's going to have my fate in his calloused, sun-spotted hands for the next six months.

I wish he'd just plunge the tube in me, crank up the chemo, and bid my good riddance… but… diagrams, maps, x-rays, pamphlets, questions- and oh, so many _fucking_ questions you'd think Helen was documenting this shit for the _Time's_ magazine, are crucial before doing anything that'll physically remedy me.

Eli's standing between the lavender painting and the window, acting like he's a part of the wall, and we touch eyes for a long time awhile Helen dances around the ultimate question no one- not even perky can answer- which is whether or not I'm going to die.

Clare with an 'I' comes in one final time before the treatment begins, just to assure my blood pressure and heart rate are sustained- they've notably leveled out since Eli's arrival.

She hugs me to her middle aged frame before patting Helen's shoulder. Apparently I'm going to be seeing a lot more of her, seeming she'll have to pop in regularly to report my white blood cell count. She has a pixie cut, and wears eyeliner to a thickness only round eyes like hers could pull off.

She has a Boston accent, and her scrubs have Snoopy printed on them- she wears heavy emerald rings on every digit, except her wedding finger.

I'll have to question her about it once we've become more acquainted- I jot it down on my list so I won't forget.

The chemo drug is an Alkylating drug called Melphalan, a nitrogen mustard, and accompanied by a platinum drug carboplatin to assure my tumor doesn't spur into an acute form.

Eli's holding my hand awhile the Clare with an 'I' shovels the catheter beneath the skin of my chest plate. Eli's face bestows an awful lot more distaste than I am as he watches. I grant him unnecessary permission to turn away, but, he only wrinkles his brow, intent on watching as though he's attempting to extract my pain upon himself.

Clare with an 'I' advises me to not watch, which she doesn't note that I wouldn't be able to anyway. My eyes clench as she burrows the tube in. My flesh is stubborn to the invasion, though it eventually surrenders, and an unholy noise jerks out of me.

I feel my nails biting into the back of Eli's hand, and it illusions the affair that I'm in labor, with his child, delivering _his_ baby, plump and unscathed with a full life ahead. The baby is perhaps a boy, we'll name it Demetrius, and he'll have that sour baby smell people can never get enough of.

Maybe he'll have my eyes, and grow to have Eli's masculine hands. The thought distracts me long enough till Clare with an 'I' says, "All done, now all we do is wait!"

Dr. Roman pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, presenting my mother with my regimen schedule as though it's a gift, before turning to me. "Your father and step-father just arrived in the lobby Clare, you're blessed to have so many loved ones with you- you ought to be ready to have a lot of waiting to do."

Roman murmurs, as though he hasn't proposed this to numerous patients before him. Just for me. From that, I decide I like Dr. Roman.

I cannot move myself, the catheter would seem to scold me if I did. Eli unfolds my fist to kiss my palm, and I pretend the frosted prickle sensation within my blood is something I'm used to.

_'You ought to be ready...'_

"I am ready" I announce, although Dr. Roman and Clare with an 'I' left ten minutes ago, and I'm already mantled down by the will of a plastic tube.

"We know you are, honey" Helen assures, with admiration within her eyes, and Eli's eyes twinkle in agreement. They're all gracing this look upon me like I'm a small child saying something precious. This isn't to be precious though, this is to be the ugly truth, and I'm ready to wear the face of it.

_I'm ready to kick cancer's ass._


	5. Around 7 am

**This chapter proceeds to be in Clare first person pov. If anyone was wishing for a greater depiction of Clare and Eli's physical encounters, you'll enjoy this semi-short chapter. **

* * *

There's a pecking noise close by, and by close I mean directly into my right ear. My body twitches with life, mapping out where this is originating from. A fluttering sensation is coating my neck. "Morning sleeping beauty" Eli coos into my ear, and I snort without having to even think about it.

"Awakening from the dead" I grunt, my eyes remained lidded, and somehow I can _hear _Eli smirk. "What's that sound?" I whisper; there's a faint battering against the window pane, a sound like marbles clattering into a hallowed tub.

"There's a storm" As if on cue, a clap of thunder roars from outside. When I was younger I was deathly afraid of storms. My father – from the outside of the coat closet I would huddle in- insisted it was simply the angels bowling from above. I'd never seen nor heard an angel, but, I believed him none of the less.

"How long has this been going on?" I wonder aloud, and when I attempt to unfold my eyelids, they cling shut again. "Since last night, I'm surprised you slept through most of it." Eli's voice sounds quite distant, as though his sincere thoughts are elsewhere and what he saying is just an automatic voice mail.

"What time is it now?" My eyes aren't cooperating, the strain in trying to open them knocks a dull ache in my skull. "Around seven am." Eli murmurs, before I feel his lips close upon my forehead in a kiss.

"How do you feel?" I couldn't tell if I felt well, or if I simply felt numb. "My nostrils and mouth aren't leaking." I note, and Eli makes a noise I can't tell is good or bad unless I see his face.

"You must be thirsty" Eli shifts off the bed, I listen to his ginger style of walking. He always walks with a definition for posture, swift and brisk, so you rarely hear the bottoms of his shoes dragging against the ground. There's the sound of the plastic seal of a bottle cap being unscrewed, then the slosh of liquid within a cup.

"Here" Eli murmurs, although one of his masculine hands has cupped my neck in hosting my lips up to the cup. I don't fancy being a vegetable though, so I muster up the strength to awaken my eyes and steady myself among my elbows.

I didn't fathom how thirsty I was until my throat began to urge the liquid down in massive gulps, and I'm panting as Eli withdraws the cup to refill it. "Where's Helen?" I ask, and Eli turns from the hospital sink. "She went home a few hours ago with Glen- your dad didn't stay long, he did leave those for you."

Eli hands me the Dixie cup to hold on my own this time, awhile gesturing to the bouquet of forget-me-nots at my bedside. The name is too ironic, it's merely offending. The brilliant yellow and blue of the petals are awfully gorgeous though, and add a silver of sunshine to the room.

I fire back my water like a shot. "Did you stay the night here…or…" I question, drinking in his changed attire of a deep green sweatshirt and another pair of black sweats.

"Yeah, but, Cece and Bull came down to supply me with a few things…and to see you." He informed, and I slump against my pillow which seemed to take the shape of my head from marinating against it. "To see me passed out with a tube in my chest." I mutter, and Eli narrows his eyes, though it's not that of anger … perhaps disapproval.

"They just want to make sure you…and me are holding up."

"Yeah" I drone, starring into the Dixie cup.

"I hope you didn't waste your sleep to watch me do it." I plea, and Eli draws Helen's chair up to my bedside to plunk himself into.

"On and off throughout the night, your IV water went off when it got low every few hours, and I had to make sure a nurse came in to refill it, it looks like you're about to need another refill now." Suddenly, my bladder tightens with urgency.

"Oh…I uh… am feeling all those refills" I clench my legs together, and Eli quickly unfastens the sheets from me and assists me out the bed. I roll my IV stand into the bathroom, and I hear Eli flapping the covers out on my bed as I swing the door closed.

I don't understand mirrors anymore. I rinse my hands beneath the faucet, and when I peer up it's certainly not the same person I used to see. It agitates me as though it's injustice, as though a crime has been committed, as though someone had kidnapped the girl I used to know from the mirror.

I miss her terribly, and I know everyone around me longs to see her again too. Clare with an 'I' is making small talk with Eli when I return.

She transitions her attention upon me fully as I situate myself in the bed Eli notably made up. "Like I was saying, my sista' loved NYU." She continues, awhile mending to refilling my IV pouch. My left arm streams with the cool fluid, and Clare with an 'I' shakes hands with Eli before hustling out on an emergency call.

"Do you fancy my nurse?" I taunt, and Eli hovers over me as he tucks the blankets beneath my chin like a small child. "In the ten minutes that I've spoken to her, sure, she's passed the 'Eli Approves' test." He quips, and the tiny smile we exchange for a moment has a twinge of how things used to be.

"Eli?" He ceases plumping up the pillow beneath my head to touch eyes with me.

"I've never seen your forehead"

Eli laughs aloud, and the sound is as though it claps on a flicker of light inside a black tunnel.

"May I?" I question, stretching a hand like above for his bangs, and he looks down upon me like an infant reaching up from a crib. Still in muse, he lowers himself to me, granting me access to fully comb his bangs away. It appears just as any other forehead, I can't fathom if I was expecting anything else.

I shuffle two of the longest strands around his ears, and admire the distinct contours of his jaw. The green of his irises are broader without the shadow of his bangs sweeping above them, there's nothing of quipping anymore playing on our faces.

I was sincerely touching him. I traced his features, ingraining the design of him within my head, memorizing him through my fingertips. Eli's eyes close as I drift my fingers along the particular vein that swelled in his neck when flustered.

"Come here" I whisper, and he obliges without a thought. He molds his lips over mine, as I fill the gaps between my fingers with his hair. He latches onto my bottom lip, engulfing it into his mouth and suckles upon it. He strays back, and his legs dangle off the bed so his upper half is held up by his elbows, maintaining his weight from me.

I don't care though, I want to feel the heaviness of him on top of me, I want the plump edges of him to merge with my own till we can't decipher who's body is who's. Eli seems to read this in my eyes, or perhaps he had no will to restrain the desire himself. It wasn't rare our thoughts coincided.

He tugs the covers to my knees, and pushes my hospital gown above my breasts. It exposes the planes of my stomach, accompanied by my dull white underwear. Eli rises to his feet, shrugging his sweatshirt off. He wants to feel my breasts against him, just as I want to feel that patch of hair beneath his navel.

He plants his hands above my head and eases only his shoulders against mine, kissing my lips chastely. I wonder if impatience is another symptom of cancer. My mouth is watered to hold him, essentially with the heat radiating off him, due to his sweatshirt clinging snugly to him.

I free my hands from beneath the covers, tugging the IV line as I press my palms into Eli's back, awhile arching myself against him so the planes of our stomachs meet and our hipbones align. My breasts swell to be touched, and it illusions I'm wholesome and full as I once was.

"You feel so good" Eli gasps into my ear, hands clinging to the pillow case as he moves himself against me. It's too tender for grinding, but, it's enough to birth the heat of friction from our rubbing flesh. Eli bows his head over to suckle upon my breast, like a baby might, and I play with the strands of hair on the back of his head in encouragement.

His tongue is on an expedition down my sternum. He's gradual in his steady lick, the chain of his guitar pick necklace jingles against my skin, hanging off his neck. Despite if I adore the warmth of his breath within my legs, I want his tongue knotted with mine. The rain tapping among the roof seems to be chanting in unison to our steady crescendo.

I beckon for him to kiss me again, and he obeys after pecking my inner thighs, as if to promise them _Later. _As he presses into my lips, prying them apart to make passage for his tongue. I simmer my fingers through his happy trail, along his hipbones. I roam my palms among his ass though his sweats. I am longing to hold the most intimate region of his body.

Until, of course, my _own_ body gets in the way.

"E-Eli" I stammer, and he's quite indulged in swirling his tongue around my navel to answer beyond a _"hm._" "I'm going to throw up" I choke, and he unhinges himself from his transfixed state quicker than I expect. Leaping off of me, he retreats a red bucket I've never seen from the floor.

He holds my hair awhile I regurgitate enough water to re-stock my IV pouch.

I dangle my head over the edge of the bed, awhile Eli empties the bucket into the sink. "Where did the bucket come from?" I question, and Eli sets the bucket onto the floor, gathering his sweatshirt up in the process.

"Cece brought it over for you, it came to good use last night." Eli informs, and my heart aches sore in watching him cover himself up from me, it almost seems to irritate me, like some form of betrayal. "Last night?" I echo, and he exchanges a glance between the empty place next to me and Helen's chair.

Debating whether he wishes to sit aside of me, tempt himself, or endure ignoring the temptation that is myself. He concludes to sit in Helen's chair, and for once I wished he chose the selfish route for my own selfish sake.

"Yeah, you were ill last night in your sleep, but, Roman said you're not responding abnormally to the treatment." I huddle against the bed, willing myself to be intent on his words, but, too antsy from the absence of his touch to want that will.

I interrupt him, "Why do you want to be so gentle with me…?"

"I _have_ to be gentle with you" Eli corrects, the mutuality of longing in his eyes are holding my own. "Can I still have kisses?" I ask in a small voice, and Eli towers over to peck the tip of my nose, lips, before frowning against them.

"You're freezing" he whispers before I can ask, and I pin my brows to the bridge of my nose too. "My feet are a bit blue" I admit, and he reels Helen's chair around to the foot of the bed, flaking the covers off my feet. I want to scold him for moving further away from me, but, I'm hushed with curiosity.

He dismantles the rail at the foot of the bed, granting access to my feet, and props both of them in his lap. I straighten my spine up, and watch as he gropes my feet in the warmth of his palms.

I never doted on how elfish my feet were till I discovered one of Eli's hands could wrap entirely around my foot. He rubs along my soles, toes, and circulates the middle with his thumbs. The caressing of his fingers, the pattering of rain on the window pane,I feel myself being succumbed to sleep once more.

His thumb strokes my ankle; my eyes are heavy, although my thighs still quiver with the memory of his breath between them. I still yearn to strip him down, and grope a particular feature of his body myself.

Although I suppose this was quite an intimate affair too… I can't stand the sight of feet, let alone touching them, not even my own.


	6. He's my sun, he makes me shine

"I want Eli to move in"

Helen spins around from her office desk. She has this motherly fixed gaze over her glasses which have fallen to the tip of her nose. "I'm not surprised" Helen retorts, and I suppose this should surprise me, but, since finding out my spine lump could kill me- nothing surprised me anymore.

"So, what does this mean?" "It means, I'm not surprised and you shouldn't be when I say no." I gape, hands flailing about in the air, although I don't understand why, because this also doesn't surprise me from Helen- cancer or no cancer.

"You won't even consider it?" I spew, my toes curling into the tacky threaded rug Helen always insisted gave the office a "_chic boho_' interior. I'll have to add on my list to spit on it later… I wish I could smear cancer cells on it too.

It's Helen's cue to gape now, "Consider that my daughter will more than likely be engaging in sinful acts right under my nose?!" Her voice has this distasteful habit of becoming a screech.

"Then I'll move in with Eli" I conclude defiantly. Helen drags a long exhale from her chest, removing her spectacles- a sign things were about to become quite serious.

"Clare, you're only seventeen, there's a lot you're going through right now, and I just don't think Eli putting you in vulnerable positions or you invading Cece and Bull's spac-

"Eli's not _putting_ me in any position_, _and if he wanted to, I would gladly let him and Cece and Bull _offer_ to have me there on multiple occasions." I'm getting breathless, and by time I'm finished Helen's spectacles look as though they're about to crack in her balled hand.

I spitefully hope they do, descending microscopic shards of white-hot pain beneath her skin that'll be impossibly small to pluck out. "Clare, you're not going anywhere, Eli's not going anywhere either, end of discussion-" "Ha! Discussion, what discussion? There is no discussion with you, it's _Helen's way_ or no way!"

There's a welling sensation in my eyes, but, I refuse to say they're tears. "I might die mom, and I might never grow up to have a life with Eli where I get to see him every day." Helen is quiet, and I am unsure what she's feeling because I can't look at her right now or I know I'll lose it.

"Eli sees you every day at the hospital." Helen insists, but, it's too stale to be of comfort and I don't think she has any intentions of doing that. Especially when she's under parental mode.

"Where he can watch me lay there like a rotten vegetable!" I spit, and Helen does that long sigh again. "Clare, you're putting far too much stress on yourself for a lost cause." This snaps something within me. "I _am_ the lost cause mother, don't you see that?!"

Her muddy eye's appear darker than usual, and it doesn't break me like I anticipated it to. It just pisses me off even more.

"Plus… if you say yes, I'll have nothing to stress about." It's a wee bit late to pull the innocent card on her, but, I'm hoping it could even my case out. Helen tilts her head at me, there's a glitch of that look that makes me feel like a child saying something precious again.

"Is Eli the one who suggested this?" "No" It's without a beat, but, Helen seems unfazed by this- whether she believes me or not, I can tell it's going to be a no. So, I decide to cross boundaries.

"No, Eli's doesn't, but, at least he wouldn't be completely oblivious as to why." I insist, and Helen folds her hands in her lap- she's now here near as proper as she dolls herself up to be. "Eli will be leaving for NYU in the fall, I want him to be around me as much as humanly possible."

It strikes me that the way I just worded that did not benefit all the sin pro-sexual scenarios Helen's plotting in her mind for what Eli and I will be engaging in. Which we will. Fortunately, Helen pretends she didn't hear it, she's been doing that a lot lately.

"Maybe you should consider his part on this Clare, your sickness has been a toll on all of us… you should consider what kind of burden it may be on Eli to constantly be around that. He needs space too you know." Helen's using that watery voice to her advantage, but, it only seems to tickles me in a sore spot.

"You know, just because dad grew tired of you, doesn't mean Eli will. "

* * *

It's Friday, I haven't spoken to my mother since then, which was three days ago. Eli decided to induce some form of normalcy, we'll have a movie night- just like old times. As I get ready in the bathroom, circling doll-pink blush on my cheeks to make the illusion my body isn't corroding itself, I see Helen appear in the door frame.

I continue padding the blush on, a bit heavier than intended. "Do you want help with your hair?" Helen asks quietly, and even though I perfected it to disguise the bald patches, I don't want to waste an opportunity to have a moment alone with her. I nod, and she ghosts over to adjust the pins of my hair.

"I've been thinking" Helen begins, and I lower the blush palette to stare at her in the mirror. "Maybe Eli staying here… won't be such a terrible idea." I continue starring at her through the mirror, I'm assuming she wants me to speak, but, I'm afraid if open my mouth it'll all be ruined.

"But, only for a few days out of the week." Helen adds sternly, awhile she drops her hands from my hair. My hair looked untouched- I suppose she saw the opportunity to be alone too. "It's also up to Eli" she adds on a third bar, and within moments, I do something I can't recall doing in quite some time.

I turn around and hug my mother.

* * *

Eli arrives outside my house five minutes before he said he would, he's using Bullfrog's car and has the passenger door open for me as soon I as come outside the front door. "Mi lady" he drones, and I courtesy to him, before slipping into the passengers seat.

I watch as Eli feeble glides across the hood of the car. I laugh when he falls off on the other side. "Smoothe Don Juan" I tease as he reels into the drivers hand, grinning.

"Even Don Juan couldn't have a lady as gorgeous as you" Eli comments, drinking me in with his eyes. On that compliment, I couldn't help but believe it. I went A-grade with getting ready as of tonight. Even if it was simply for a film- where we'd be in the dark- and the Dot, where I've spent a third of my life's meals in.

I curled the thinning strands of my hair, styling them into a bun in disguising the bald patches, and filled in my also thinning brows a shade slightly darker than my hair.

My cocktail dress is teal, because green supposed to represent health and healing, and teals the closest to green I could find. It falls just above the knee, hugging my waist to dress my boniness as slim and feminine, not corroded and sickly.

The extravagant material suffocates my breasts, it illusions they're as plump as they once were, and it's one strapped design. The piece tied over my shoulder to hide the scar of where the catheter my life depends on is plunged deep into my chest.

I opted for four inch heels, promising me to fall at least once before the night ended, but, I didn't want to risk ruining the night over a swollen lip or snapped ankle. I went for the stubby heels- subtle, but, elegant. I also have my denim jacket draped over my arm…. Helen's request.

It snubs th the romantic chance for Eli to offer me his, but, since my rash commentary in regards to my mothers faltered marriage with my father, I didn't wish to pry into a wound beginning to heal.

Despite if Eli never showed dismay to even my most horrid of attires, I wanted him to have a polished girl on his arm… one that perhaps didn't look as though she could be under the ground in a mere few months. Tonight is going to be a good night.

* * *

Everything commenced in the orderly fashioned as it once did. We arrive, Eli opens the door for me, escorting me on his arm like I'm a prize to be on display. We have a good-natured bicker over what film we'll see, insisting we see the film the other one wants to- till we finally decide a completely different one that'll suit us both.

I vouched for romance, Eli for horror, we ended up with two tickets for a comedy. Eli made the assumptions refreshments were out of the question, seeming synthetic butter and carbonated soda were not cancer-diet friendly. I insist we a get a small, he may keep in his lap to monitor me if I go "butter-beserk."

Tonight's going to be a good night.

Inside the theater, Eli opts for the very back row. We sit and Eli drapes my jacket over my chest like a blanket. I lace my fingers in his hand midway into the film, and I massage his knuckles… Eli thanks me with a light a squeeze, so light as though I were a soap bubble.

* * *

A person can only withstand an _Adam Sandler_ film for so long. The audience is practically rolling on the floor in tears. Eli's breathed a bit more air through his nose here and again, a specific line I wasn't paying attention to had him laugh aloud for a solid thirty seconds- I counted.

I didn't realize I had been watching Eli for the third of the film until he touched eyes with me, asking if he had something on his face- which was the only time I actually laughed.

* * *

Towards the end of the film, of course, this happens.

"E-eli..I'm going to vom-" But I eat my words with my hand clutching my mouth. I fumble over Eli's knees towards the entrance, and gratefully our seats offer a a slick passage to the exit.

I wonder if he thought that one out. By time I've reached a restroom, my stomach had impatiently purged a sour flavor in my mouth. There were no lines at this hour- just a prune with thinning white hair.

_You and me both_

She does one of those cliché elderly "_oh dears"_ as she listens to my puke waterfall into the toilet, and sounds like a cat getting skinned alive come from the back of my throat. Even when the foul part was over, I couldn't lift my head from the toilet seat.

_"Oh my goodness"_

_"What the hell?"_

A flock of teenage girls that had entered the washroom were squawking at was sounded to be an intruder.

"Pardon me ladies"

He didn't

"Clare?"

He did

"Eli, get out of here" I'm attempting to be assertive, but, I just sound helpless, which has Eli rattling the stall lock awhile the other girls are twittering amongst themselves now. Probably of how our little fiasco was better than any of the films here themselves. Would it be funny if we asked them for a charge?

"Don't come in here"

He does anyway, practically busting the lock off and the girls twitter- they must'v been woed to his masculine display. If I didn't feel like I was on the verge of a seizure, I know the jealousy would've stung.

Eli holds my hair when I purge a second episode. When I'm done, I don't hear anyone else in the washroom, so, I assume we're alone. Or maybe there was blood hounding in my ears. "Lets go" Eli whispers, and I gaze up at him from the toilet seat. Despite his insolent tone, his eyes only contrasted in a weak plea, a plea saying '_I wish I could help you more, I wish I could save you.'_

But I don't want to him to save me.

* * *

I was more than certain my bun was a nest, and my half hour work of eye makeup was that of a raccoon now. Not to mention the damp patches of water on my dress from where I scrubbed my puke off. But, I wouldn't know, I avoided looking at the bathroom mirror.

"Off to the Dot?" I sigh as we exit the cinema, arms tangled. "Well, since you went out of the way to look so particularly radiant..." I scoff, lavishing my tongue with the three sticks of mint gum Eli practically _ordered _me to chew.

"I thought we could go somewhere a bit more crème de la crème?"

"And where would that be?"

* * *

"The park?"

Eli smirks at my glare of bewilderment out the windshield. "Not just _any _park" Eli clutches his chest in mock horror, and when I look beyond the alabaster fountain, I see our bench from our very first kiss. "Very superb" I tease, and he flashes a crooked grin.

"I want to keep all your beauty to myself anyway." I snort just as I did when I first awoke in the hospital last Monday. I admire the bench from afar awhile Eli keeps me planted in here.

The moonlight is shy tonight, cloaked beneath a veil of clouds. A mere flicker of it's light seeps through, and touches our bench, as though it were a spotlighting just for us. When I gaze beyond the bench, my heart plummets into my stomach. Just beyond the _Sugar Mile_ trail, is a secluded cemetery plot.

My passenger door swings open, welcoming a gust of frosted air, and I shiver. "What's wrong… did you want to go somewhere public, because we can." Eli's grin sinks off into frantic, and I ball my fist around the material of dress, wrinkling it.

"No- you're just full of surprises tonight aren't you?" It's just now I take notice to the weaver picnic basket on his arm. "I wouldn't flatter myself- Cece's idea for a moonlit picnic… location wise however.." Here he escorted me out by the hand, "Was in fact a Goldsworthy original idea."

I smiled at his triumph awhile we approached the bench, and despite being in the middle of a deathly silent park, it seemed inviting and beckoning for us- like we belonged.

* * *

"Eli?"

There was a certain power in names, when using them on people. It's as though you're touching something personal. We're tangled on top of a picnic blanket, and the picnic basket- with lettuce wraps inside- remain untouched.

Eli tilts his head down, and I gaze up at him from his chest. "Am I tragic?" Eli sits on this for a moment, and then discards his eyes from me, and averts them to the sky- as though he's speaking to the moon.

"Tragic?" He echoes, and I don't reply on the notion he was to continue. "What are you trying to say?" He asks in a meekly apologetic tone, he knows I cannot stand having a question answered with a question. "I mean, cancer was so … sudden and random, a tragic turn of fate- does that make me a tragic…lost cause?" I wonder aloud, and suddenly I find myself lost inside my own question… Eli's lips against my forehead bring me back.

"Something tragic has happened to you Clare… that makes the case tragic, not you." He sounds uncertain in his response, though towards the end he sounds content with it. He sounds like he's slowly reciting a script verbatim, and is unsure if he's on the line.

I want to bring up the subject of him moving in, but, after the theater incident...after that look he gave me... something's taped my mouth over.

"Is my tragic case rubbing off?" I question, and my heart seems to curdle inside my chest, it's a question I've been wanting to confront him of for a while.

"No" He doesn't spare a moment to sit on it, and it's without a beat or hesitant uncertainty. I'm pleased with this, but, that doesn't mean I believe it. It wasn't necessarily a good night, but, it's another night with Eli I may never get back.

* * *

The mirror

I sit before the mirror of my vanity in my bedroom, and stare at myself. I still could not understand what I saw, and I was about to see not only a stranger, but, perhaps a diverse species. Perhaps an alien creature – hairless and hallowed in the cheeks- and she's coming for me whether I wish to see her or not.

I rummage my fingers through my hair, and watch a lock sweep off my scalp like butter shaved off the stick with a knife. I decide I'll welcome alien Clare first. I remove my sweatshirt, so I'm clad only in my bra.

"Are you ready?" Helen whispers as I enter the bathroom, and I kneel before the tub, watching the faucet gush warm water. I listen to Helen kneel behind me and take a steady breath- she's nervous for me. My nerves have seemed to spare me- or give up- because I felt nothing as of now.

I see my phone on the towel stand, and the screen lights up with Eli's name. I reject his call, before Helen dunks me over- I have to welcome the alien Clare by myself.

The water is incredibly loud next to my ear, Helen plants me into the tub, and begins to shave my head.


	7. Into The Looking Glass

A/N: I threw a twist in, and it may involve a slightly OOC Adam. You've been warned.

* * *

"You are the fairest of them all"

Clare shrieks, turning from the hospital washroom mirror, hand on top of the bare skin of her head. "Mirror of lies" she scoffs, after a moment of recovering from her startle. Eli smirks, walking inside the snug washroom and tugging her into him by the hem of her sweatshirt.

"It makes your pretty eyes come to life" Eli compliments, taking note to how broad the blue of her irises were. "Probably because it's the last bit of color I have." "Your cheeks say otherwise" Eli coos, stroking the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs, and heat overwhelms Clare's face.

Eli kisses either sides of her cheeks, then beckons for her to lay with him in the hospital bed. "But, I've been laying down all day" Clare whines, as Eli ushers her across the room, hands on her hips and nudging her from behind with his knees.

"And you're going to be laying down a lot more for another few Monday's." Eli's lips are muffled onto her naked scalp, kissing along it. "Point taken" Clare huffs, and Eli tucks her in a pocket of blankets Helen brought over from Clare's home.

The idea was that blankets, with the scent and familiarity of home, would make the cooped up hours here less… cold. Not that- in temperature terms- chilliness would be an issue with Eli here. As Clare sinks beneath the covers, Eli situates himself on top of them- tucking Clare against his chest like a rag doll.

"How does it feel?" Eli wonders aloud after a moment, and Clare blinks up at him. "It's really cold… without having hair and everything, that's not really the worst part about it though- I mean there is hats." This makes Eli laugh, and Clare thinks that's something of significance.

"Eli, I have a…proposal." Clare's voice is thickened, with an edge as though she's been awaiting to reveal something. Eli stifles, "And this proposal is?"

Eli takes a hold of one of her hands, and plays with her fingers. "You remember how much fun we had being together on prom night?" Seeming there was an airy light in her tone, Eli calmed.

Having a hunch it must've been good… and the memory of their first time recapping in his brain had him glowing. "Yes" He whispers, pecking along the shell of her ear, wanting her now.

"Well, I was think-"

"Knock, knock- Torres delivery!" Adam strides in, carrying a white shoe box. "Adam!" Clare sings, hiking up on her knees to hug him.

Eli smiles, though he's tense, and watches from the bed, with arms lingering open for Clare to return. "Yes, but, as if I wasn't enough… I figured this would be of use to you to." Adam hands Clare the shoe box, and she eyes him skeptically, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Oh my" Clare laughs, plucking the lid off to reveal a box flourished with beanies in assortment of colors. "Hope they suit your noggin" Adam quips, and Clare picks one to weigh the soft material in her hand. "These are perfect Adam…I was actually just whining of how cold my head was since… you know."

Adam's youthful features stale over apologetically. "No worries Clare, you're already perfect." This knocks Clare off guard, and Eli seems to pretend he doesn't hear it.

"Well, thank-you so much" Clare gushes, hugging him against her once more, only briefly this time. "So" Adam drones, plopping onto the edge of the hospital bed.

"What's on the agenda today- besides kicking cancers ass?" The three of them laugh in unison, and Clare savors it in her ears. "Well, I just finished my chemo session… but…. Eli's giving me a bedtime." Clare mutters, elbowing Eli's side, and he plucks off her blue beanie to stuff in her face playfully.

"We'll be leaving in a bit to drop Clare off." Clare makes a gawking noise, adjusting the beanie over her head. "Or, you can drop yourself off with Clare."

She insists in a tiny voice, "Aren't you tired?" Eli presses, cupping the nape of her neck with his hand, massaging her gently.

"Not too tired for you" Clare coos, lips caressing his cheek and Eli bores into her eyes half-heartily. "I don't want you to push yourself." Clare slouches over warily, tilting her head in plea. "It's not pushing, we can do just as we['re doing now… just _laying_ around."

Here, Clare's hand travels to Eli's thigh running along the inner part of it in feathery squeezes. Adam's ears seem to flame up red, and he adjusts his throat to call them back from their own world. "Well, I guess I should be going" Adam informs, with a tense aura around him now.

"Thank-you again for the hats Adam" Clare emphasis his name, hoping it said something, because she could not fathom what would have upset him in the five minutes he was here. "No problem" Adam says, letting the door fall on its own behind him.

"What's going on with Adam?" Clare wonders aloud, when Eli doesn't answer, she glances over to find him starring after the door- burdensomely.

"Eli?" Clare echoes, and he looks at her with an expression transitioned too quickly to happy for Clare to believe. "What's going on with Adam?"

Eli shrugs, but, his eyes seem to know more. "Who knows, let's get ready to go."

* * *

_Two Sunday Night's Ago_

"_So, I heard you and Clare did the naughty- I must be enlightened of all the glorious deets." Adam urges, and Eli shushes him, eyeing around the Dot for those in ear-shot. _

"_What do you wanna know?" Eli mutters, and Adam ponders on this- he wanted to know everything. _

"_Was it awkward?"_

"_Nope"_

"_Was she nervous?"_

"_A little at first"_

"_Did you last long?"_

"_Sort of"_

"…_What are her boobs like?"_

"_Adam" Eli gawks, before taking a long gulp of his iced tea, and Adam shrugs meekly. "I don't know, I mean, I've never actually seen or touched a girl's..parts."_

"_You mean another's" Eli retorts, and suddenly is grimacing. Adam leans back in his chair, and Eli pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ah, man, I'm so sorry… I just.."_

"_It's all cool dude" _

_Eli thins his lips out, "Really, we're cool?"_

_Adam fixates a smile, "As a cucumber" _

"_Did you really just say that?"_

* * *

"_Eli" _Clare sighs, drooping her cheek onto his shoulder, and Eli presses his hands into her back, stilling her bare body on top of his lap. "I love you…_ah!_ So much" Eli whispers on every beat of his thrusts.

Clare adapts to the rhythm of his thrusts beneath her, and allows him to guide her above him by his hands among her hips. With Clare's neck tilted back, Eli is granted to peck along her skin awhile she grounds her hips within his, further deepening him within her.

He cups her neck, drawing her to kiss his lips before compiling her to lay down beneath the weight of his body.

She adores not knowing her own edges. The feeling of him moving within her… the slick _sound_ of it. She savored it all; Eli's teeth latch onto her lip, and grips the small of her back. He moans into her kiss as he feels her back arching in his hands.

He roams his fingertips along her inner thighs, breasts, and he buries himself within her ruggedly with a rough thrust. His forehead falls onto hers as he peaks, her name chanted upon his lips.

Clare wishes she could live within this moment forever.

* * *

After an hour of pleasant silence, and Eli caressing her backside, he recalls her unfinished proposal from earlier. "You mentioned something of a proposal…" Eli murmurs, and Clare's sleepy eyes fly open. "Um, yes, yes I did" she murmurs, and Eli sits upright against the headboard, intently listening.

"What would you think about… staying here?" Clare can't seem to hold eyes with him, shes unsure as to where her courage went.

"As in…" Eli drones, fingers still caressing her backside, and Clare grimaces. She had been hoping he wouldn't lag this.

"As in, here with me… under my roof.." His fingers stop caressing, he doesn't answer and Clare's far too scared to see his expression. She sits up from his chest, allowing the comforter to fall from her chest, exposing her breasts- but Eli's eyes are intent on her face as she speaks.

"I consulted with Helen, and she said it was fine… if only for few days out of the week." Clare adds on, and she's flustered when she looks upon his impassive face. It left no traces for her to read.

"I see you everyday" Eli answers, not breaking his frigid expression- his voice matching it. "But, not every night… and always in a stiff hospital facility." Clare defends, and suddenly Eli's statue expression twitches with life, and it reads with distaste.

"I don't think that's… necessary Clare." "I know, but, what's the opposition?" Clare couldn't fathom what objection there could be as to them being together.

"Look, Clare, if this is about your illness-" "What else could it be about?" Clare scoffs, and Eli peers up at the ceiling in exasperation.

"When we do live together, I want it to be because we're ready to start our lives together- which we _will_, not a pity reaction from you already tucking yourself into your death bed."

"You don't know if that isn't true"

"_Clare!"_

"Well you don't!"

Clare's voice is thickening, tears filming her eyes heavily, and it makes' Eli's heart want to burst. Clare turns her shoulders away from him, and Eli wrestles with the idea to pull her back to him. Clare composes herself as best as she can.

"I just want to be practical, and to spend whatever time I may or may not have left in the best way possible." Eli pinches the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up when having overwhelming concepts dumped over him- life seemed to enjoy doing that to him a lot.

"I can't think about this Clare" Eli whispers, and Clare whimpers, "I'm not asking you to think, I'm asking you to be with me." Clare never fancied pursuing her wants through desperation, but, she was out of vices- and she didn't want anything else, that was possible, in this world at this moment than him to be here.

"What will you lose if I am okay in the end anyway?" Clare adds on, but, there's nothing casual about this appeal anymore. The notion Clare's day's may be numbered had taken root in Eli's brain, and was festering a diseased growth of pain inside of him.

Oh how he craved to hold her each and every night like he dreamt all throughout high school. And now that it could be pursued, he was to coward away.

He couldn't under these circumstances, he wouldn't let himself feed her pessimistic invitation for death, and make love her night after night awhile she was convinced each moment of it was to be their last.

Clare awaited for him to cave, and frankly if he opened his mouth, he was assured she'd be granted with just that. So, he doesn't say a word.

He shrugs off her sheets, and picks up his clothing patching the ground. Clare watches him dress himself, briskly, before she begins to breathe heavily in her weeping and he stops lacing up his shoes to glance at her. She was heart breaking for him to see like this.

He sits down aside of her, shoes unlaced, and cups her cheek. "I…" He begins, and her cornflower blue eyes bore into him as though reading his soul in a single glance. He felt weak in the knees, and every fiber in him longed to succumb to her desire.

His mind was often the manipulator of his heart, and it only provoked him to kiss her forehead and assure he'll be back early tomorrow morning.

Clare watches him await the cab in the driveway from her window- holding her bed sheet around her body. Eli felt those eyes upon him from the window, and awaited the moments till the cab arrived and just like that, Eli was gone.

* * *

"_So dude, are you going to delay a year to NYU…or…" _

_Eli peels the onion off his burger, "Nah, I'll be here with Clare till the end of the summer though." _

"_Why would you do that?" Adam bursts, and Eli glares up from his meal, startled. _

"_Clare insisted that's what she wanted"_

"_And you believed her?" Adam bellows, gravitating all of the Dot costumers heads towards them._

* * *

Shortly after Eli leaves, Clare calls Adam. He answers on the first ring.

"Clare?"

"Hey Adam"

"Is there something wrong?" Adam's voice is struck with panic, and Clare shakes her head as if he can see.

"No, no, I just needed to talk to someone." Clare murmurs, plummeting onto the bed- it's still warm.

"Oh, isn't that what you're knight and shining guy liner is for?" Adam drones, and this make's Clare laugh, which is something for the hole burrowing into her chest.

"He's the reason why I need to talk" Clare mutters, and she hears an odd hitch of breath on the other end.

"U-um what happened?" Adam asks tentatively; Clare plows her face into a pillow- it still smells of Eli, and she lingers her nose onto it, even if she was angered, the scent made her feel at home.

"I wanted him to move in"

There's a long pause

"And… w-what did he say?"

"Do you think I'd sound like this if it were a yes?" Clare drones, and somewhere Clare can see Adam shrugging from the other end.

"I guess not…did he say why?"

"Kind of…I don't know how to put it into words." Clare murmurs, a sudden urge for sleep was seeping over her.

"Oh"

"Could you maybe talk to him?" Clare asks in a tiny voice, and there's another long pause.

"Adam?"

"Clare… I….I don't think that would do much good, I'm sure whatever reason Eli has- it's probably for your own good." Clare sits upright, brows tightening.

"Excuse me?" It sounded as though Adam _wanted_ Eli to say no, as if he had some role to play in it.

"I mean maybe this is for the best… he will be leaving soon."

"Hence we should be spending as much time together as possible, right?"

Another long pause

* * *

"_Clare understands, once she beats cancer she'll join me in NYU just like we planned- what is your deal?" _

_Adam's hands are balled into fists among the table, "And if she doesn't fight off the cancer?"_

"_She will"_

"_You don't know if that's true!" _

"_Damn it Adam!" Eli's own fists were balled, except they greeted the small table, rattling it beneath them._

* * *

"Adam?"

"I mean, you deserve someone who's going to want to be with you- no matter what." Clare grimaces, astonished- she'd never heard Adam pull Eli's name through the mud, essentially on terms of his relationship with her.

Something was going on, and in a bizarre, almost hypnotic way, Clare was enjoying it.

* * *

"_Well you don't" He mutters, and Eli licks his lips, eyes soaring up to the ceiling in disbelief. _

"_Maybe you should let Clare be with someone who can actually stay by her."_

_This snaps something within Eli_

* * *

"I understand Adam- hey, I have a question"

"Shoot"

" Do you wanna maybe… come over?"

* * *

"_I am staying with her, I am the someone who will- no one else." _

_Adam just shakes his head, and Eli internally grants happiness for him that he has the physicality of a female, for he was on the verge of knocking him upside the head._

* * *

"Um, yeah, when?"

Clare eyes her alarm clock, "Like… now?"

* * *

"_How can you say you're all in If you're not even there"_

"_For point of record I plan to have Clare in all of my life, if she asked me to not return to New York- I wouldn't."_

_Adam's face is a hideous tone of red, "She shouldn't have to ask you!"_

"_Look, why the hell do you care so much all of the sudden?!"_

* * *

"As in…" Adam wonders aloud, and Clare is tugging on her clothes as she speaks.

"You know, just hang out… just us two… _alone."_

* * *

"_I-I just… I…she's my friend!"_

"_And s__he's **my**__ girlfriend" Eli squints at him, and everything is starting to boil down to the inevitable, and it was the last thing Eli needed. _

_It would jeopardize him losing his closest friend, awhile the other closest person in his life may or not be lost as well. _

"_Adam…"_

_Adam gazes up at Eli through his lashes… thin lipped. _

"_Please tell me you're not saying what I think you're not saying."_

* * *

"Adam?" Clare presses, quite impatiently.

* * *

"_It is… I'm in love with Clare too."_

* * *

"I'll be right over"

* * *

A/N: Surprise love triangle.

My apologies if the line indents bothered your little pupils.


	8. In my hour of darkness

**This is the longest chapter so far- about 5,000+ words.**

**Pov's will be altering from Clare in first-person to third-person. **

**Warning: Eh, what's the fun in warning?**

* * *

"I'm glad you're here"

Adam pulls away from my hug, a grin touching both of his ears. "Torres is a twenty four seven delivery." My lips tug into a smile, wishing it wasn't fixated.

"What's the laptop for?" I ask, closing the front door behind him. Adam lounges onto the living room sofa, making himself at home. "Oh, I… thought we could watch movies or something." I nod, despite if his voice seemed off- as a matter of fact, all of him seemed off today.

"Adam?" I seat myself aside of him, "Is there something wrong, you've been acting strange ever since the hospital visit?"

He opens his mouth, though he was fault to produce words out of it. "You're just… over-analyzing things Clare, maybe those beanies have baked your brain." He quips, and I giggle, adjusting the beanie he tugs over my eyes. "So, movies?" I drone, reaching for the laptop on the coffee table.

"Wait, Clare… there is something." Adam's hand catches mind, and he doesn't release until I look at him, confounded. "There's… there's something that I've been holding in for a while, and I wasn't planning on telling you, like, ever…" There's a sinking feeling within my stomach.

It's as though a pit is seeping inward, burrowing a hole inside. When I don't answer, Adam decides to rip the bandage off. "I like you, I mean…I don't just like you, I like you a lot, uh, more than a lot…I-I lov-"

"Woah, okay, Adam stop!" I tug my hand away, finding my palm damp with the warmth of Adam's hand. "I think you should go" I say meekly, drying my palm on my sweats. Adam gathers his laptop as he stands, "Look Clare, I wouldn't have spilled and made things weird if you hadn't gotten sick… it's just… if your cancer takes a bad turn, I'd hate to think you'd go without knowing how I feel about you."

"Does Eli know?" This was my foremost concern; Adam being Eli's closest friend, I couldn't fathom what stress Eli would have to wrestle with between his two loved ones. "Yeah….he kind of… forced it outta me." I sit on this for a moment. Had Eli really kept such a thing from me?

Did he feel insecure in contrast to Adam? Adam, of all people? "How long ago?" I press, suddenly dismissing the entire principal that my friend of two and half years was in love with me.

"Oh, he's known for a long time now…I mean.. he talks extremely possessive about you when you're not around." Adam states, as my eyes widened in dismay. "That can't be… Eli's past all those maniac episodes." But then, I am on the verge of a critical condition life, it wouldn't be so irrelevant for my disease to trigger that upon him.

I won't take Adam's word for it at the moment, but, I wasn't going to let let him on that. I didn't want to stir the pot for a feud, granting him more time to be alone in my empty house with me.

"I think you should go" Though it's not a request, I open the front door to escort him out. Adam shovels his hands into his pockets, his laptop left on the coffee table. It was a sign he had no intentions of leaving, but, I planned to steer those intentions otherwise.

Adam raises a hand above my head, swinging the door shut. "Adam, I'm serious, get out" I deadpan, reaching for the doorknob behind me- Adam compiles his body among mine, mantling me with his slender frame against the door. "Tell me Clare… what exactly does Eli have that I don't?"

I latch onto my lower lip, refusing to gaze up at him. "Adam, you're crossing a line." I whisper, hiking a knee up to nudge him away. Adam's hand grips the back of my raised leg, and hitches it up around his waist. I gasp, awhile he snickers down upon my unyielding shove.

"You haven't answered my question" Adam merely pouts, his hand releases my leg, only to venture up to pluck the thin strap of her shirt off my shoulder.

"You haven't obliged to my request" I bushwhacks him off of me, and Adam staggers on his foot for a moment, before glaring at me. I circle around him to gather his laptop off the table.

"Leave" I order, holding his p.c out to him. Adam scoffs, "What about just an hour ago, you were begging me to come here?"

"An hour ago, you weren't a lusty eyed jerk intending to betray his best friend- notably my boyfriend." Adam smirks, though it seems to himself, and snags his laptop from my hands to set upon the coffee table again.

"You're telling me, that your perfect boyfriend- who _notably_ doesn't want to even spend the night with you, is the last guy you want to be with before you maybe, I don't know, die?"

"Get the hell out!" I'm screeching now, my hands fly up on instinct to clench my hair, only to close on air.

"So catty" Adam whispers in awe. "God, this is the last thing that I need Adam- I want to enjoy whatever time I have left, not wrestling with my boyfriend's sleazy best friend." I spit, but, Adam seems affirmed on his intentions as to coming here.

"Oh, so now I'm sleazy, for being the only guy in your life willing to stick around awhile the other one is flying off to live in a whole different world?"

My throat is thickening up,I sputter on words I don't even understand, and Adam rages on. "And now I'm your 'boyfriend's best friend', what about the misfits, aren't I your best friend too?"

"I don't know what you are to me now."

I, for once, want to vomit- just to rid myself of this gut sinking feeling. Just when Adam opens his mouth to argue, the front door swings open.

"Clare, I'm home!"

Helen took a rain check on Glenn's dinner date after work to come home and stay with me. Glen's in Ontario as of now on a business for the day; although I have a sense that an escape from the Edward's home was a vacation for him.

Helen makes small talk with Adam awhile she stirs leftover garden stew in the crock pot to warm. She leaves to fetch the mail, leaving Adam and I to stare at each other. I count the moments I anticipate he'll say something, but, he just watches the broth in the crockpot bubble like it's alive.

Helen returns with the mail- I got a _"Get Well" _card from Jake.

Helen presses Adam throughout dinner about his summer job as a camping counselor. I pretend to be infested with a vegetable that looks like a crossed breed of a carrot and tomato.

When things became too quiet, I excused myself from the table to "lay down."

I feel Adam's eyes on me the whole way.

In my bedroom, I hesitate on calling Eli. He had sent me three messages, all in regards of me resting and how much he loves me, but, none about the events that occurred earlier, or about him moving in.

I want to be angry with him, but, I want to hear his voice too. I take the battery out of my phone to give me no choice.

Hearing the dishes being cleared away from downstairs, I go into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and await for the front door to open in welcoming Adam out.

Awhile I wait, I run hot water over my hands in the sink. I was never one to have anything luke warm, it was half-ass. I need my water to be at it's highest point, scolding, and intense. I prefer my life as I prefer my water.

When my hands begin to pink up, I shut the faucet off, and avoid greeting alien Clare in the mirror.

"Clare?" Adam's on the other side of the door, rattling the knob. "Why won't you leave?" I plea, voice cracking. "Just open the door Clare"

Adam's cap is on backwards now, his hands in his back pockets. "You deserve an apology" He admits, after having a long stare at his shoes.

I nod, "Well, I accept your apology, but, I think you really should just go." Adam nods, though he doesn't move, and it's making me impatient.

"Would you… accept doing something with me, tonight?"

I squint at him, "As in?"

I'm unsure why I'm pressing the matter further; I have no intentions to spend another moment with him under my roof.

"A party?"

"A party" I echoe, interest suddenly sparking within me. I hadn't been to a party since my last surprise party- which notably was crashed- for my seventieth birthday.

"Yeah, same place as your seventieth brawl." Adam shovels in his front pocket for something awhile he speaks.

"But, Fiona's in Rome"

"_But_, her loft isn't" Adam sings, dangling a key before my eyes.

It's silver, and it's teeth seem to shine at me as though it's smiling. It shines with freedom.

* * *

After ten minutes of plotting, everything is set in stone. I escort Adam down stairs and through the front door, awhile Adam makes a polite farewell to Helen, acknowledging his "leaving."

Shortly after I shut the door, Adam bustles around the house to climb back in through my bedroom window by the old sugar maple tree.

I wish to ditch showering, but, all the rebellion was tightening my back into knots. Knots only the sting of inhumanly hot shower water could unwind.

So, I do that.

Adam waits in Jake's room awhile I make a disaster of my closet in search for something profoundly bold, erotic, and will match the daring mood I was rallied up for.

I shovel out a too short of a skirt Allie gave me two birthdays ago, with the tags still on it, beneath my bed and a cropped shirt that allowed the valley of my breasts to be revealed.

The broken ankle promising heels give definition to my chicken legs, and alien Clare in the mirror looks something of her former self again.

Applying makeup was another beast entirely, the process is quite lengthier than I recall. Essentially with the loss of color in my face, not to mention eyebrows and thinning of the lashes- there was much more to fake.

I apply concealer till I am not only an alien, but, also a China doll. I proceed to dust my cheeks with the same doll-pink blush from Eli and I's date.

I hadn't bothered in touching my makeup since being on house arrest from school and the public eye.

The tube of mascara was a task to twist open, and once I did, it was found to be six months worth of crust.

I resort to curling what lashes I had left, and apply my eyeliner like Clare with an 'I' does hers- despite if I don't have the round eyes to suit it.

The goal is to make myself look nothing like myself.

As I line my lips in vibrant red, Helen knocks upon my door- my heart stalls in my chest.

"Clare, honey, are you alright?"

I begin to chew the lip liner off, "Y-yeah, why?"

"I'm gonna head down to the church to help set up for the mass tomorrow, do you want to come?"

"U-uh, I'm not feeling so well" I fake a wheezy cough- I suck at pretending.

"Mrs. Rufo would love to see you-"

"I _really_ do not feel well mom"

I listen to myself breathing

"Alright honey, well, I'll be back later- I love you."

"I love you too"

* * *

I watch headlights scheme across the house, and await for Helen's car engine to die out in the distance. Adam's playing on Jake's PS3 with the headphones in when I enter the room.

"Thank-you for not taking an eternity" Adam's voice drips with sarcasm.

He quits complaining on point when his eyes fall upon me. I do a three-sixty turn for his evaluation, "Is it too much?"

Adam takes his headphones off, stands, eye's never leaving the exposed valley of my breasts.

"Will you turn like that again?"

Because of how daring I'm crediting myself for, I do.

"One more time?"

"Adam, behave, and we should probably leave so we can beat Helen in time."

"Why don't you just tell your mom we're going to Fiona's- you did go there for your birthday."

"Well…"

Telling Helen where we were going- despite if the intentions were a lie- seemed to scrape the edge off of the rush I was on. With my sense of rationality though, I do it anyhow.

Helen lectures me to be home before curfew- eleven – and I'm granted an entire review of what I may catch in a strangers home from whatever pamphlet Helen's reads by my hospital bedside.

She tells me she loves me again, and I say it back.

Awhile I shrug on my denim coat, now loosing the thrill of rebellion, I find Adam's eye's haven't peeled off of me.

"Stop that" I mutter, buttoning the cuffs of my sleeves. Adam smiles, "You look very beautiful" Adam compliments, and I snort on cue, just like I do whenever Eli says this.

Eli

My phone was still on my bedroom nightstand, with my battery next to it. Tonight was about me.

"The cancer patient doo, it's quite a trend." I mock, running my fingertips across my bare scalp.

I wonder when I'll get used to it.

"Or, you could take a break from that trend… for tonight" Adam rocks his voice in a coo, hands behind his back.

I arch a penciled in brow, "I could?"

"You _can_"

* * *

"A… wig?" It's wavy and long, rusty red, and above all things: authentic looking.

"Yeah, I mean, you look lovely as it is…but… I thought may-"

I hug Adam, ignoring the pestering conscious that he revealed his unrequited love for me hours prior.

"Thank-you" I whisper, and he turns me around towards the den mirror.

The wig falls just below my breasts in elegant twists, the bangs are scratchy, falling partially over my left eye, but, I don't mind. I miss the weight of hair, the tickle of it around my face, or even the nuisance when it clung to my lip gloss.

Adam assists me in adjusting it, then he steps back. I turn my head from all angles, watching the synthetic curls dance around my face, as though they're dancing with each other.

I feel beautiful

* * *

We hail a cab to Fiona's loft, Adam reaches over to hold my hand in the cab, and I let him. He is, after all, who I have to thank for this night.

I just wish I would stop wishing he was Eli.

* * *

The loft is vast, as far as décor and furnishing goes. In population terms, you would've thought all of Toronto was here. It seemed with every person, three other persons came with them.

I adore the crowdedness though. Grand parties are far more intimate than private ones- no one minds what another is doing, so, everyone has their own seclusion of privacy. I feel as though I could become lost in the mass of bodies. Lost, as though anyone, anything, couldn't find me in the sea of people.

That perhaps Cancer could not find me here. It's incredibly dark, which defeats the lagging readying process before coming here, but, I don't mind that so much. I felt beautiful for me. There are only Christmas lights- white and bright- and twinkling from the ceiling.

Twinkly lights

There's a nausea sweeping through me now, and I clench my eyes- this would not be happening tonight, tonight was about me. I do not care how selfish it seems, ever since Cancer, selfish only evolved to sound like a a beautiful thing to me. Everyone and everything else was just irrelevant at this point.

"Dance with me" I can't even hear myself requesting it over the blaring music, but, somehow Adam understands none of the less. He laces our fingers, tugging me into the sea of people, and I feel their body heat rolling off their damp skin- there's a musky scent in the air, and it reeks with life to me.

I savor it, and I simply want to hug everyone and have their warmth seep into me. I settle for Adam though, since he is after all who I have to thank for this night. I'm going to assure it's one I'll never forget.

I tug Adam close to me, and his hands venture along the slopes of my hips- dangerously near my ass, but, I'm the one who steers them to touch me there.

I have no idea what song's playing, who's singing it, or what the words are…but the beat is like a thumping drum, bringing me to life in every tap. The bodies, despite if it's not in unison, seem to sway in one direction around me.

I feel in tune with myself, and Adam's breath on my neck, hands on my butt, and lips in my ear ties it all up like a bow.

My eyes flutter closed, and it's unfair to the person who I have to thank for tonight, but, I imagine it's Eli's arm's holding me against him. That it's Eli choosing to be irresponsible with me, and giving in for the sake to spend what numbered moments we have left together.

There's even twinkly lights, ones I have the urge to snap a shot of and send to him, just to rub in what he's missing-but I didn't bring my phone, and I didn't bring myself here to dwell on what Eli _could've_ done.

Another song plays, one with a rawer beat than the last. It's another nobody to me, and the beat is nothing of the indie pop I do homework to. My hips seem to enjoy it though, and I let them- with Adam's hands upon them- have their way.

We grind in that unattractive state that borderlines dry humping, and I simply don't care, which I'm more than certain is the feeling I'm enjoying more than grinding itself. It's difficult to fathom Adam's youthful face right now, with me dancing myself into his pelvis.

The rooms far too dark to see, so, I guess I'll never know and I don't mind that. At this point, my forehead is slick with perspiration, and the wigs clinging to my damp neck. The burn within my muscles is like a shock of life rocketing throughout my body. Adam wrings his arms around me, and presses his lips directly into my ear.

"Do you want a drink?"

I'm not supposed to drink alcohol-related, sugar-related, artificial-related or tasting good-related. Which is why I down a canned strawberry margarita from the ice box under a minute, and then another two under ten minutes.

Adam must have enough common sense to know this can't be good for me, but, I forgive him for it either way. I fling the can onto the ground, and plunge it with my four inch heels. Adam seems to enjoy watching me enjoy myself.

The power I feel from the weight of tin bending beneath my heel is far overrated, granted it is only tin…but then…I am also drunk at this point, so, nothing has a place anymore and I love it. I want to be in any place than where alien Clare is.

"I want to show you something" Adam shouts, once he was done applauding my can-stomping performance.

I attempt to coherently say I want to keep dancing, but, Adam already has me inside Fiona Coyne's old bedroom by time my drunken brain can pronounce the word "I."

"What's going on?" I murmur, and my eyes flutter around to the room glowing dimly.

They were lit candles…

"Adam?" I stagger around in circles, evidently I'm not wasted enough to dull my skeptimism.

"Sit with me Clare" Adam guides me by the wrist to the bed, but, I tug back on cue.

"It's not like that Clare, I promise" Adam coos, and I allow him to escort me to sit on the edge of the bed, the faint bounce of the springs beneath me is enough to nauseate me.

I lay onto my back, and curl into fetal position. "I don't feel well" It's quite slurred, incoherent, but Adam only whispers "I know." I sense his body laying down behind mine, and one of his hands draws up to rub the small of my back.

The sensation is comforting, and for a moment I fathom an alter universe: Adams' my boyfriend, rubbing small circles into my back, and I urge him to hold me in my hospital bed… and I sigh his name awhile I writhe beneath him. Gazing into blue instead of green.

"I want to show you something" Adam whispers, hands ceasing their massage on my skin. He beckons me to sit up, and I slump against his shoulder.

"Ah!" I complain, a bright light invading my eyes and Adam apologizes meekly. "Why is your laptop here?" I groan

"Shh, it's not mine, but, stop talking and just watch."

I blink

The screen featured a video, sporting a masculine woman with a sexual gadget strapped on her, and another feminine woman planted beneath her. We watch her insidiously rule the woman like a hound rules a bitch.

"A-adam… what… why are you showing me thi-"

Awhile I turn my head to him, he snatches the opportunity for my lips.

I steer my head to the east, only for him to follow my rythmn and capture them once more. Vulgar sounds of pleasure seem louder than the music outside from the laptop, and I allow Adam to push me back against the bed. I could not tell if this was on intoxicated Clare's behalf, or the stabbed with Eli's rejection Clare's behalf.

As I allow Adam to tug the fabric of my shirt below my breasts, releasing them with a faint bounce, I conclude it must've been a compromise between the two.

"I've always wanted to see this" Adam gasps, bowing over, his tongue ventures along the contours of my cleavage. Adam with drawls from licking my skin to kiss along my neck, awhile his free hand plucks my wig off- I listen to the graceful thud it makes as it plops onto the floor.

"Hold on, let me do something…" Adam insists, and he withdrawls from my bare chest to do whatever. I assume to turn off the explicit video, before lying down quite eagerly on top of me.

He latches on my jaw in a greedy suckle, awhile his hands busy themselves with my chest. He gropes one breast then the other. Adam roams his kisses down my sternum, around my navel, and tugs my skirt to my thighs- exposing the white cotton of my underwear. My eyes falter closed, head tilting up to the ceiling.

I hadn't felt this surge of heat, something foreign among my skin in awhile, I'd come to know Eli's body as well as my own. The fact it was so taboo made it even more delicious. This was daring, vetoed, and wrong…

Wrong…

I open my eyes, and there is twinkly lights glaring right back at me.

They seem to knock my drunken brain upside the head, sweeping clarity throughout me.

"A-adam… stop!" I hiss, awhile his fingers cease from pulling my underwear down.

I scoot away from him, adjusting my clothing, I bolt from the room- swiping the wig off the floor in the process.

I bolt into the kitchen to gather another can of whatever from the icebox and chug it. It's harsh on my throat, and I don't drink it slowly enough to allow my tongue to taste it. I meet someone, his name happens to be Elijah- of course- and apparently he's the partner in crime for Adam in throwing this fiasco.

He make's classic small talk, the same talk I've heard before, and he senses he's boring me then offers his hand in a dance. I should say no, but, I did promise myself this was to be a night to remember.

I give him my hand, despite if I can't even detect his eye color or the contours of his face, and he leads me into the mass of bodies again. His touch is foreign of Adam's- which has my skin crawling in memory- or Eli's –which has my skin crawling in shame.

He's gentle in a demanding manner, cradling me to him, he's far taller than I pegged him to be in the darkness. He smells of beer and an orangey cologne, awhile his groin area seems to stiffen through his jeans awhile I grind back into him.

He must assume I'm enjoying it, for he steadies my hips with his hands and moves his hips against me at his own accord. This indeed will be a night I'll never forget- because I'm never going to be able to forgive myself for it.

* * *

Eli rehearsed the revealing of his news to Clare at least five times in the car mirror.

He decided he _was_ going to move in with her.

He gripped Bull's steering wheel in his palms, and the only though that worried him was whether he may have upset her to an extent that she didn't wish to have him there any longer.

Hence, he had a dozen yellow tea flowers in the passenger seat next to him.

Tapping on the Edward's front door, Clare's stepfather- Glen- answers the door.

"Hello " Eli greets, and Glen's brows are raised, though it doesn't seem to be in surprise.

"Hey there kiddo, Clare's not here" Eli's brows furrow over, awhile Glen takes a long swing of his beer can.

"Did she and Helen go somewhere?"

All the horrid scenarios of what could've happened in the short span of his absence fled Eli's mind.

What if the stress he caused her made her react to the chemo, was that possible?

"Nah, she went with that other scrawny twerp Adam to some party thing."

The stems of the bouquet snap in Eli's hands.

"Do you know where?"

"The Coyne's loft"

Three yellow petals break off a tea flower, and flutter onto the cement, one by one.

Fiona was in Rome… the loft was empty.

"Thank-you" Eli says through his teeth. Glen watches the car bolt off- leaving black tire marks among the pavement.

* * *

Adam grinned, re-watching the video once more, he felt giddy in triumph. As he awaited the video to arrive in the email on his phone, Adam twisted the volume on his laptop to MAX, indulging in the fragile noises she must'v been oblivious to herself making.

She slipped from his grasp tonight, but, tonight would also be the night she slipped through Eli's as well.

_Would you like to send this to Eli?_

Adam grins before clicking _send_.

* * *

Elijah's awfully touchy with his hands and balls. His sweat is merging with my own, and I feel as though I am In a pocket of his body warmth. Elijah is grunting things about wanting me into my ear, before I feel his nose come out of my synthetic hair and trace along my cheek.

We're exchanging breaths, and I feel another sting of guilt about to lash upon me- till Elijah's gone. It happens as quickly as a car speeding past your glance. Elijah's yanked from me by the force of another, a smaller figure is behind him, his towering figure staggers over to the smaller figure's feet.

I tilt my head, my eyes being closed for so long, it was a task to adjust them to the dark. "Clare, come here to me"

The figure's voice is louder and far more closer than my eyes perceived. "Eli?" I croak, and I feel my wrist being cuffed, and it feels as though a shackle I escaped from has found me again… I am found… even in the sea of bodies, and in the pocket of a strangers body heat.

Whom is still in a heap on the floor, till Eli begins to gather me up in his arms, and Elijah rises from the ground in whipping Eli around to confront him.

"Get your own hootchie mama" Elijah bellows, Eli shoves him away- hard. "Lets go" Eli's voice is as stale as his grip on my wrist, but, Elijah simply won't quit.

I bet he's the type of male to abuse women for the sake of "discipline" or whatever.

This time, Elijah dismisses Eli and stands before me, and cups my cheek. "Hey!" Eli barks, charging towards him- only to have Elijah rebound him off with a single jut of his hand.

Elijah says something in persuasion to me, but, all I can do is gaze at Eli who's eyes seem to have blacken and it's in no gratitude to the darkness. Elijah turns my head to him, fingers webbed in hair- which he evidently did not know wasn't mine, for when he draws back, the wig does as well.

And there I beheld alien Clare before Elijah, who flung the wing on the floor and backed off like I was some form of disease. It gained me a sense of power, though I can't tell where it's bred. Eli tugs me out of the loft by arm.

When I glance back, I see the figure of Adam in the middle of the dance floor- grinning.

* * *

Adam watches Eli tug his Clare from him- once more.

_Sent To: Clare_

_If ud just come back 2 me- this never would've happened-_

* * *

The tension is not screaming in the car, it seems too frightened- which is terrifying.

Eli pulls up before my house, and I look upon my lap, now taking notice to a mass of shed yellow pedals on the car floor.

"Say something" I whisper, and Eli's jaw is trembling, that particular vein in his neck is swelling with life- it's beautiful.

"What do you want me to say?"

I unbuckle my seat belt, my stomach is curdling up like sour milk inside of me- promising me to greet those four cans of alcohol in the toilet again later

My chest is swelling up inside; I feel as though I'm in the principal's office.

"Tell me you went to that party, danced with only that guy and didn't do anything else."

I suck at pretending

"_Dammit Clare, tell me that's all you did_!"

I jump as his fists bang among the dashboard, awhile his voice shakes in a pitch, he's on the verge of heavy honest-to-god crying, and it's contagious.

"I just... danced...with that guy." I cooed,

"Is that the truth?"

"With that guy...yes." If he's this hung up over a stranger, I couldn't possibly drag the cat out of the bag about Adam now.

"It was just dancing"

Eli scoffs, "It's not just the jerk Clare, what if you caught something, what if you began to bleed, or what if the chemo began to react? The alcohol- oh, please tell me you didn't drink Clare!"

A tear dribbles off of my cheek that I shy my head away to hide.

"And how did you even find about that ridiculous joint?"

"How did you?"

Eli leans back into his chair, eyes glistening with a welling of tears. His voice is raspy as he speaks.

"I came to your house… to… tell you that I wanted to move in with you…"

It's like someone slammed brakes on my heart.

"But, Glen told me that you and… _him_… were with Fiona, who- evidently Glen and Helen are unaware of- is in Italy."

Silence

"Tell _me_ Clare"

"Adam... Adam... took me" I reply sheepishly, "It's true..." Eli whispers, though it seems mostly to himself.

"I was trying to… live" I add on , and Eli glares at me in bewilderment, a chain of drool is dangling off his lip- I want to lick it up.

"Living? Because you're ill now, I have to share you?!"

I shake my head, despite if that's precisely what I have done. Eli's breath is erratic as he rages on, "Can I even trust you, am I supposed to just let you do this to _live_?"

I cry to the point of my ears are muffled and my nose is too crowded to breathe through.

"It's not me…it's j-just a reaction from me being sick" My voice has this tendency to lag out as though I'm moaning, and I often attempt to tame it, but, everything's being spilled as of this moment- and it slips my mind.

"So, every time you get sick or something tragic happens, what, am I supposed to just give you a hall pass to from our relationship?"

I whimper aloud, covering my eyes with the heels of my wrists.

"That's a _pathetic_ excuse Clare!"

In the midst of his lecturing, he takes his phone out of his pocket.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I need to talk to your little escort"

I attempt to grind some of the black streaks off my cheeks in the reflection of the car window. Eli's phone signals a timer noise, signifying a video was buffering upon his phone. I couldn't fathom what would quite so significant at this hour.

"What?" Eli breathes... as though beyond disbelief.

"Eli?

"_A-adam… what… why are you showing me thi-"_

In that moment, I knew, this most certainly will be a night I'll never forget.


	9. Just another curse to break

I awaken on my bed, in my four inch heels and Eli's leather jacket. My breaths reeks, my head is cranky with a migraine, and when I glance to the window, Eli's back is facing me.

He's not caressing the back of my neck, or sleeping on my breast as he conventionally does. This is a bad sign.

I don't recall the transition from the passenger seat of Bullfrog's car to my room. I can't tell whether or not this is a bad sign too.

"What time is it?"

"Around three in the morning, "he doesn't turn himself around to look at me as he speaks.

"You're still here…" I subconsciously know I shouldn't allow this to excite me, but, it's the only thing I can register as not a bad sign at this point.

"Yeah, I'm going to be here for a while."

Now he turns around, and I strain my back muscles as I sit up.

"As in…?"

"I'm going to be moving in with you." Its slick with coldness, perhaps resentment, and I cannot read a twinge of joy upon his face.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Him moving in was to be a glorious transition, but, it feels more of two x-lovers strangled within a room, with a timer just to see how long they may last in each other's presence.

And it's my entire fault

"Why..?" It's all I can manage

Eli sighs, looking upon his shoes as he trots towards my bed, hands in his pockets. He plummets down aside of me on the edge of the bed, and bores into my eyes like the way Helen does before she's about to give me a pep talk.

I suppose this should please me though…. him staying, let alone being able to look into my eyes at all.

"I can't trust you anymore Clare… not awhile you're in this state… so I'm staying with you."

Like a guard on duty for a prisoner.

"Like I'm a guilty prisoner" I mutter, and Eli exhales through his nostrils. "Just because you committed a crime doesn't mean you're a criminal to me."

"This wasn't how it was supposed to be"

But, Eli's beyond my weakling defense now.

"You should take a shower and change your clothes." He suggests, sternly, awhile he gets up from my bed to leave my room.

I watch him the whole the way.

"Where are you going?" I call after him hoarsely, and his mild stomping down the stairs stops, before there's a long pause.

"To call Adam"

* * *

I oblige to Eli's suggestion, I take a shower, and lather my skin raw in hopes to cleanse myself of last night's events.

As I pat myself dry, I hear Helen and Glen's bedroom door swing open. I dress myself awhile I listen to Helen rummage around downstairs, the front door opening, and Eli greeting her in a polite whisper.

I quicken my pace in dressing myself as I hear Eli's footsteps approaching from the stairs. As I hear him about to enter my bedroom, I open the door.

Eli is finishing tapping his phone off as I approach my bedroom. He steps aside to let me enter first- like a guard escorting a prisoner into their cell.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I dispose my skimpy attire into the hamper- although I'm tempted to chuck it in the garbage, but, I don't want to spare a moment with Eli by going downstairs.

I'm also tempted to ask about the call with Adam, but, at this point I only want to dispose everything that's happened moments prior, and go on as though it never even happened.

Unfortunately, it's nowhere near that simple- it never is anymore.

As I climb onto my bed, Eli's standing at the foot of it, watching me put my socks on.

"Helen, uh, put sheets on the downstairs couch for me, so, I'll let you sleep."

"But, I'm not tired."

I know I'm not in an appropriate position to be more of a trouble than I already stirred. But, I want progress to happen; I want us to kiss and makeup as of right now. I don't want to lag out a mass of wary days till we finally can be something of what we used to.

Especially when those days may be numbered.

"Well I am" Eli fires back.

He storms over to my dresser awhile he speaks, and gathers a black carrier from the top of it. He must've driven to his home to pack awhile I slept.

He retrieves a pair of black sweats, N.Y.U t-shirt, and his toothbrush.

He doesn't change himself in front of me, and it gorges a massive lump in my throat, but, I'm too shaken up to weep about it. I deserve every bit of spitefulness he bestows upon me.

I hear a distressed noise from my bathroom down the hall, but, the flush of the toilet overpowers it.

The toilet flushes at least ten more times before Eli comes out.

Which is after a time far too long for a simple changing of clothes and teeth brushing. But, it's going to be a whole lot longer for any healing progresses between us now, so, I suppose I should get used to it.

Eli's rubbing his knuckles into his eyes as he returns to my bedroom. I watch him glance towards my hamper, but, retreats to shoving his clothing back into his bag.

As if mingling his clothing with mine was repulsive.

He doesn't look my way as he walks to my bedroom door to leave. "I'll see you in the morning" I whisper, and he hesitates midway through the door on my words.

For a moment, it seems he'll spin around to me, but, the hesitation lasts as long as a blink before he shuts the door behind him.

Leaving me alone in my bed, awhile his warmth is only fifteen stairs' away.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

* * *

In the morning, Eli's nowhere to be found- only a single white sheet folded neatly on the couch.

For "breakfast" I eat my smiley face of pills deliberately solemn, one by one, and without water to allow them to stick to the walls of my throat.

Helen trots into the kitchen and greets me like any other morning. She doesn't press any matters of the events of last night, and it doesn't dawn on me till she leaves that Eli must've lied to savor my idiotic ass from a hard-boiled parental lock down from Helen- which I also deserved.

I consider turning myself in once she arrives home, but, I couldn't jeopardize Eli be prohibited from me- essentially when he was already on terms with ignoring my existence as it is.

After "breakfast", I strip my sheets- which linger with the scents of body fluids and strawberry margarita- and toss them into the hamper. As I compile my hamper basket into the wash- set on cold so the colors won't merge- I think of the dirty clothing in Eli's carrier.

It's sitting where he left it on my dresser last night. I unzip the top, and a small smile tugs at my lips as his masculine scent vapors out from the inside of it.

I pluck his jeans- the boxers still wedged inside of them- and his button up shirt out of it before hurrying downstairs to toss them in the wash, cradling them to my chest the whole way.

Awhile I listen to the washer humming, I lie upon the couch and fight the urgency inside to call Eli and pry into where he was and what he was doing.

I couldn't pester him, not now.

But… perhaps he took the liberty to pester me?

I run up the stairs faster than my body was pleased with to check my phone. I'm panting by time I reach my bedroom.

When I approach my nightstand, my phone, nor my battery next to it, is anywhere to be seen.

I kneeled down to look beneath my bed, before scavenging about my room and within my bathroom. I hadn't recalled touching it since primping myself to leave yesterday.

Unless someone else did…

* * *

Helen arrives home around four, which is earlier than usual. She does a questionnaire of how my symptoms are as of today, awhile she steams the yellow zucchini sent from my grandparent's farm in a pan.

Awhile I nibble on one zucchini slice at a time; she tosses sliced apples into the pan, before coating them in organic cinnamon for my "dessert." She forks three day old garden stew into her mouth from the crock pot itself, awhile she explains she's in a bustle, for Glen arranged a night at a hotel on the sight his company's working on.

I can tell her hurrying is for more of getting away from me than to meet Glen on time. But, I'm in gratitude to Glen for spoiling Helen - it was more than my father ever did, and far more than I would ever be able to.

Like when she's white-haired and legally blind, and I'm middle aged with my own finances to house her in her dream cottage on the mountains of Switzerland, the cottage she's always pining over in the _Home & Garden_ magazines.

Assuming I live to see myself middle aged that is.

I embrace her for a long time before she leaves, and despite her bustling, she doesn't seem to mind to take the time in hugging me back.

I tell her to have an extraordinary time with Glen, that she deserves it, and not to rush back home for my sake.

I hope she knows I truly mean it.

* * *

Around seven, my father calls my house phone. One of the first thing he says is he tried my cell, but, I brush it off with a lie and pretend he didn't remind me of that.

Our conversation is brief, distant, but comfortable none of the less. My father has never been one for heart-to-heart confrontations; I suppose that's something I wish I had inherited from him.

But then, I've found myself far more detached from my empathy- I was hardening myself to a selfish being. I am evolving, not in growing a shell, but, to be a shell itself. Perhaps this wasn't a trait to born to be inherited. It's not born, it's made.

I wonder what made my father's.

* * *

Eli's unlocks the front door, I assume Helen lent him Darcy's old key. He glances at me for a moment, as he swings the door shut behind him, and wipes his shoes on the door mat.

I'm seated at the far end of the sofa, pretending to watch the dribble reality show playing on the T.V. I want to ask where he's been, but, I seem to have lost the nerve now that he's actually here.

I listen to him juggle the house key in his hands awhile he pokes around in the fridge. He unwraps something wrapped in foil before heating it in the microwave. I feel him watching me over his shoulder as he waits for the food to warm up.

When the timer goes off, he shuffles around in the drawers for what I assume is silverware. I want to guide him to it- the last drawer to the right- or maybe I simply want an excuse for us to acknowledge each other's presence.

He scopes it out before I get the chance.

The show transitions to commercial, and Eli walks casually to the couch, a plate of half-eaten garden stew in his hands- and sits beside me. He tosses the house key on the coffee table, and when I look down its confirmed it is Darcy's from the pink rhinestone "D" glittering off of it.

Though my eyes on fixated on the screen, my ears are in tune on listening to him chew. I often hate the sound of chewing, but, something about Eli's was enticing.

The flexing of his jaw, that vein in his neck moving, the way he has to tilt his head to swallow the mass of food Cece always scold's him for not chewing enough. I watch him finish the rabbit mush through the rear of my eye, until he goes to kitchen sink to rinse his plate.

"There's cooked apples in the fridge." The words dump out of my mouth before I think of them.

Eli looks up from the plate he's rinsing, and blinks indolently at me.

"Okay" Is all he leaves me with, before returning his attention to the plate.

As he putters around in heating up the apple slices, I busy my hands with cruising the television channels. Just so it didn't appear I was squandering like a duck, listening to his every move- like I was literally doing.

Eli does the same routine as last time; it's another solid minute of him scoping out the silverware drawer again. He plops down in the same position at the far opposite end of the sofa from me, and begins forking the slices into his mouth. We pretend to watch another reality show for another twenty minutes.

I attempt to tune his delicate chewing out of my head, and comprehend the scantily clad girls barking at each other on a beach. Apparently one was accused of dancing with the other one's x, who she had recently hooked up with, awhile the other one was sleeping with her current boyfriend.

This dribble alone was making my eyelids go heavy. The two bleach blondes proceed in their bickering, and then begin to brawl in the sand, tugging at each other's manes. It holds my attention scarcely- till one of the girl's bikini top is flung off her.

You'd think reality television would censor her double-D breasts, but, they were hanging out for the entire world- including Eli's- eyes to feast upon. I peek over to find Eli's chewing stopped, his brows raised to his hairline.

On instinct, I wanted to cover his eyes. But, since the video… my conscious restrains me. The show goes to commercial, and Eli glances over to meet my flustered gaze.

He instantly bellows with laughter, and I frown.

"Feels wonderful, doesn't it?" Eli taunts, an icy glare in his eye, awhile sadness laced in his voice. That voice, I had heard it before.

Once upon a time before now… two weeks after our first break up… when his maniac episodes had begun. Had Adam been telling the truth? Was I awakening demons Eli had once conquered?

In the midst of shame and fury, I whip my head away, not wishing for him to glorify in the tears pricking my eyes. I hear the couch springs wail as Eli stands, and I listen to him jog up the stairs, almost in a merrily skip.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

* * *

I click the television off with the remote and let it clatter onto the ground. I burry myself into the couch pillow, waiting for the release, but, I'm dry of tears still.

I transfix my mind on that vein running along Eli's neck, the patch of hair beneath his navel, and his teeth latched onto my breast; the warmth of his breath between my legs, his icy fingertips on my back, and his tongue swimming inside my mouth.

I think of how it all may only be a memory now- and that's when I finally begin to cry. The release is achingly comforting, the warmth of my spit and tears stain the fabric of the pillow.

I clench my eyes, just to fling those tears caught in my lashes off, and then I taste them as they drip into the corners of my mouth.

When I hear footsteps- angry ones- bounding down the stairs, I quickly sit up to pat them away with my sleeve.

"Did you go through my bag?" Eli jabs a finger at me, his brows furrowed, his upper lip is curled in.

That vein is threatening to swell in his neck.

"Yes, yes I did."

I _want_ to see that vein swelling in his neck

"And… why?"

It's not happening, he's too tamed. His cheeks remained the same olive color, and his shoulders are composed. But, I know it's brewing inside of him.

It just takes that one particular spot to jab at.

"I wanted something"

Almost there, it doesn't swell… but… it twitches as he flexes his jaw.

God, he is beautiful.

"Something… after what you've done, you think you have the liberty to go through my _shit_ for something?"

He rarely swears at me, but, on cue that vein- a dark violet color- bulges with life. This is wrong of me, but, I simply cannot help myself.

I want to see more

"I took something" I taunt, rising off the couch, swinging my arms I walk around the coffee table to be closer to him. A small part of me hopes he has the urge to swing at me.

"And why?"

He's composing himself again, but, I won't have it.

"Because I wanted to piss you off" This is a complete lie, I mean, it's a lie as far as me retrieving something out his bag goes.

Wanting to piss him off was my objective as of now…. I part of me also wants to see if his maniac episodes really are being triggered with my as the source. Was there some form of gratification I was hoping to gain from this?

"Clare, what did you take?" He asks calmly.

Damn, it's not working, although this is to be relief as well. He's seeing right through me; the vein tucks itself away in his neck.

I suck at pretending

"I just… took your clothes from last night and washed them." I mumble sheepishly, and Eli tucks his hands into his pockets, nodding to himself.

"You don't have to do that; I can wash my own clothes." He insists sharply, and I nod, folding my hands behind my back.

We stand before each other for a while.

"Where were you today?" I don't care if it's not my right to know anymore- if he's living under my roof, that earns me some form of loophole, no?

"I spent the day with Bull at his radio station… then I had dinner with him and Cece, then I saw Adam."

His explanation is cool, till he says Adam's name as though its acid burning his tongue.

"Oh…"

I hadn't even thought of Adam alone since Eli unraveled our affair. I had completely dismissed the sting of betrayal I was obliged to for him taping our affair, only with the intentions to send it to Eli out of spitefulness.

It wasn't as though the fault was on Adam's alone- I shouldn't have given him something to record to begin with. I should've fought more assertively to ware him off and out of my house when my gut was telling me to.

Above all us, I shouldn't have been so selfish.

"How's your dad?"

I blink

"My dad?"

"Yeah, he called you today- at least three times."

"Called my… phone?"

It all sharpens into clear vision.

"You took my phone!" I accuse, and Eli grits his teeth.

"I… just had to know"

"And you're the one lecturing me about going through your bag!" I fume, and Eli scoffs now, hands curling tighter at his sides.

"As if I taking your cellphone can amount to what you've done!"

I won't let these tears fall; my chin is too high for that. Even if I have nothing to justify or cling to for pride for at this point.

"Give me my phone!" I order, and Eli's glare doesn't leave me awhile he rummages in his back pocket. I snatch it from his hand, ignoring the fluttering wings in my stomach when our fingertips touch.

"Why did you want it?"

"I just… wanted to see if there was anything else going on with you and Adam." Eli mumbles, and I clench the phone in my hand, my nostrils flaring in irritation.

But, I couldn't be irritated as though I hadn't done anything to deserve this.

"Right, well, please don't touch my things- without asking my permission."

Eli scoffs, "I'm going to take a shower."

He flies ups the stairs; I count every step he takes.

* * *

Instead of reality dribble, I resort to a documentary on discovery about the_ 'Big Bang Theory.' _ My ears perk up at the sound of the shower faucet switching on from upstairs.

The water's gushing from the head, and I can detect the _clink_ of Eli's belt hitting the floor.

My thoughts consume themselves in the thought of Eli's body being exposed inch by beautiful inch, as each article of clothing pools on the floor. I think of how it's only fifteen stairs away from me, how it was once all mine, and I gave it all up.

I gave him, and every beautiful inch of him, up.

* * *

I awaken on the couch the next morning; I can't fathom if I was expecting anything else. It wasn't as though I were eight, and still that of a feathery weight for Randall to carry me to my bed.

However, I was not expecting to the throw over blanket from my bed to be draped over me.

I also don't expect to hear a crackling from the kitchen and the popping of food frying in a pan. In the air, my nostrils detect a whiff of butter, batter, and perhaps onion. Eli must'v been cooking one of his signature_ Goldsworthy_ omelets.

When he lowers the stove, I watch him flip it onto a plate awaiting him on counter. He finds the silverware drawer easily now, and plucks a knife and fork from it.

I worm myself in the blanket, and consider pretending to be asleep just so I won't stifle his presence. And perhaps I can pretend his fluent walk and posture were as they always were around me, that _we_ are as we always were around each other.

He struts over to the sofa, not even acknowledging whether I'm awake or asleep anyhow.

He sits on my feet, and I like the heaviness of him on top of them, the warmth of him.

It reminds me of when his masculine hands caressed them in the hospital… which seemed so far away now.

But, it's only for a brief second, for he instantly scoots off of them as if he just sat on a vine of thorns. I frown, and adjust my throat. He engulfs a massive bit of omelet into his mouth before glaring lazily over at me.

He looks at me, chewing his breakfast calmly, awhile the morning news plays on the television.

"Yes?" Eli asks, through a cheek turfed with omelet. "My feet are cold" I explain in a small voice, my toes nudge at his leg, beckoning for him to sit on them. He sets his omelet onto the coffee table, before reaching behind him to retreat the couch pillow.

He plops it on top of my feet, before picking his plate back up from the coffee table, and tilting his head to swallow.

I watch him eat for a long time, and after a while it seemed he was intently forking each bite extremely slow on purpose, just to see how long I could withstand watching what was to be the most boring of tasks for a human to watch.

I watch until the very last bite

I remember my smiley face of pills, which weren't waiting for me on the counter, since Helen ventured off for her nightly adventure with Glen.

It wouldn't scathe me to ditch them- conventionally I would take this opportunity to. But, I felt as though I owed Helen something at this point, maybe for poisoning myself and disobeying her words after she granted me permission for my boyfriend to move in- which she would never do.

Not to mention shaving off half of her life to tend to my every need since my diagnosis- which not every parent would do.

But, hey, that's the beauty of being selfish, eh?

The medicine cabinet seems to be a collection of bottles, labeled with what seems to be a foreign language. They all hold pills and capsules in an assortment of size, shapes, and colors. They all look intimidating and could kill me in their pea-sized form.

Eli can't see me for the cabinet is on the far end of the kitchen, out of the view of the living room, though that doesn't correlate with whether or not he can hear me.

I pluck all the bottles out one by one, and begin to fiddle with the child-proof cap on one that has the only pill I recognize- the massive fish oil.

"What are you doing?"

I jump, awhile the cap I've been fiddling with for what seems an hour magically wisps off the bottle, descending golden fish oil gels to skitter across the kitchen tile floor.

I fall to my knees instantly , managing to save a few of the pills from rolling beneath the oven and never to be seen again.

"Here" Eli kneels beside me, but, I won't have that. I instantly swat his hand away from the fish oil by my knee, and he holds his palms up at me in surrender.

"Don't help me, I don't understand why you're even here… if you hate me so much, I don't get why I should even let you live here under my roof just to torture me!"

I rage on and on, and it seems to quicken my agility in plucking all the fish oils up and storing them back into their jar. Once I finish, I gather the rest of the bottles off the counter and stuff them onto the cabinet shelves in one toss.

I swing the cabinet door shut, and brush past Eli who's leaning against the kitchen counter, observing me in my rage.

My brush sufficed more as a shove, that is, before Eli cuffs my wrist and steers me around to look at him. He doesn't release my wrist as he speaks.

"First off, I'm not leaving because we both know that's not what I or you really wants."

I answer with a fierce tug of my wrist, but, Eli's grip on me is fiercer.

"Secondly, I could never, _ever_, hate you and frankly I'm offended if you think otherwise."

He's still holding my wrist…. would he still be holding it if he didn't still love me?

He continues, "What you did, I hate, it infuriates me to no end, and I don't know If I'll ever fully forgive you for doing it."

He lets go of my wrist, and I try to pretend there's going to be a punchline here in a moment. As if of all this is one indolent joke, or, better yet a dream I'll soon be awaken by the warmth of Eli's lips on my own.

But, I suppose I have yet to learn how supremely I suck at pretending.

"But...?"

His eyes bore into my own- I want to live in those eyes.

"But, you can love a person and be infuriated with them at the same time."

* * *

Eli slept in Jake's room that night, and around midnight I creep in to sit at Jake's old computer desk and watch him sleep.

I could probably watch Eli blink and savor each moment of it.

When I feel my own body tiring on me, I kneel over and peck Eli's cheek before tip-toeing over to leave.

"Good night Clare"

My hand freezes on the knob, and I peek over my shoulder, finding Eli sitting upright against' the headboard in the dark.

I can hear my heart beating in my ears

"Goodnight Eli"

It's not as unbearable as it was, and perhaps by morning it would be at the very least be tolerable.

But still…

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.


End file.
